


Forbidden

by blackrosedrippingred



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Feudal Era, Forbidden Love, Minor Character Deaths, Mutual Pining, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 187,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrosedrippingred/pseuds/blackrosedrippingred
Summary: Set in a time reminiscent of the Feudal Era, Sasuke, a palace guard, and Sakura, the Emperor's daughter, must navigate the difficulties of a forbidden love while the threat of war hangs over their nation.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 84
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

_“Are you ready?”_

_Though the disembodied voice seemed to echo around him, there was nothing but a pitch black expanse before his eyes. He turned his head to the side, felt the motion of the shift from the base of his neck, and still he was met with a vast nothingness. Stretching his arms out, he tried to feel around for something tangible, but came up empty. There was only black, darker than any night he had ever known. As he took a few steps forward, the crunch of dirt beneath his bare feet startled him. He could feel that, the sharp pressure of rough pebbles digging into his soles._

_The voice spoke again,_

_“Are you ready? We have to run.”_

_He recognized something in those words, or maybe it was the tone in which they were spoken. He_ had _been running,_ they _had been running all night; that was why his legs ached and his lungs burned. How could he run anymore? They were trying to escape something - something that seemed_ inevitable _. . ._

_Suddenly, he was jerked forward by a sharp pressure at his wrist. He spurred himself on, trying to keep up with the person that must be in front of him. His fingers flailed in the darkness, searching for something to hold on to, for the person that had a hold on him._

_“Close your eyes, Sasuke. Don’t look, just keep running. I’ve got you.”_

_His heart pumped furiously and he felt his eyes watering, the wind rushing past him, but seeing nothing around him. He swallowed gulps of air as he fought to breathe, but it felt like he was swallowing smoke. He turned his head even as he was pulled in another direction and this time he saw it; the towering inferno billowing into the night sky. He stumbled at the sight, foot catching on something in the darkness, and then he felt himself falling down, slipping further, winding deeper, succumbing forever -_

Sasuke shot out of bed, throwing the covers aside. The tendrils of his nightmare still clung desperately to his psyche, warping the shadows that creeped in the corners of the barracks. He paced the length of his small cot, the cold stone floor numbing his bare feet, while his fellow soldiers slept soundly around him. Seizing fistfuls of his hair in his hands painfully so, he squeezed his eyes shut while the echo of his memories rippled through him.

His chest rattled with every shaky breath he took as he attempted to settle the erratic beating of his heart. He dropped his hands to his sides, clenching against the tremor in his fingers. How many restless nights had it been? Sasuke turned to the high windows situated beneath the beams of the roof where he saw that it was still dark outside.

What was the point of sleep anymore?

Throwing on his uniform, he stepped quietly out of the barracks. Thick, heavy clouds hung like a low canopy overhead. Looking up to the tops of the tall, slatted roofs of the buildings that sprawled across the grounds, he saw upon each sat a blanket of snow. The training fields to the right of him, where he desired to spend most of his free time, had begun to freeze over, rendering them unusable in such weather. But the significantly sized facility that resided nearby would serve as their sparring area in a pinch. He resolved to go there soon, when it was his day to rest.

Bracing himself against the bite of the wind, he began on the icy trail that branched into the gardens. With the frigid air encompassing him, he was grateful for the extra layers his uniform awarded him. Winter had announced its presence and now it was well on its way.

As Sasuke wandered down the path, the other palatial structures came into view. He could just make out the tiered silhouette of the Emperor’s hall, the ridges of the mountains bordered by the burgeoning light of dawn sitting just behind it. Beyond his edifice lay the separate halls belonging to his daughter and their courtiers. While there once had been a time when this Summer Palace had housed hundreds of soldiers, noblemen, and diplomats, there was scarcely a fraction of those populations left. It had once been a thing of splendor and frivolity, but its grand halls of tapestry and art, of decadence and revelry, of indulgence and veneration, had long since been abandoned. Bordering the central most structures, past the infirmary and the stables, were a smattering of primarily deserted buildings; galleries, rooms, and social areas that might never be graced with the court’s presence again.

Such was the cost of war, he supposed.

Sasuke stopped by the edge of the vast frozen lake situated at the heart of the gardens. In the warmer months, the koi fish, a prize of the Emperor’s daughter, would glimmer beneath the surface of the water. But since the first snowfall, they had been moved to suitable tanks indoors where they seemed to thrive even more under her care and attention.

“Uzumaki-san?” Sasuke turned promptly to find the very same woman standing on the snow covered path in a starkly colorful robe reminiscent of spring. The updo of her hair was decorated in golden jewels that dangled down to the high neck of her jūnihitoe. Her hands met at her waist, the sleeves of her dress covering them from the cold. Her green orbs alighted at the sight of him, “I thought that was you.”

Sasuke bowed low and rose slowly in respect, bringing his eyes up to her kind visage. He could see the rosy kiss of the cold wind on her cheeks.

“Perhaps we should get you back inside, Haruno-sama," he made a small gesture in the direction of her quarters, but she shook her head.

“I am afraid I am unable to sleep," she met his gaze then and grinned with an exuberance he doubted anyone could rival, "I do not do well in Winter.”

Before he could stop her, she was kneeling in the snow by the side of the water where lush foliage had once bordered the lake. She reached a hand out, small fingers curling around the air.

"Much like the flowers, I find myself wilting in this weather, trapped by the cold and unable to thrive outside," _and yet_ , he thought, _she managed to carry herself with no less grace_. But, he supposed that was largely due to her upbringing, "Do you enjoy books Uzumaki-san?"

“I have not read many," he kept his distance from her, adverse to her question, merely observing as she glanced her fingers over the slick ice. Even from the profile of her face, he could see the twitch of her lips moving upward.

"I find that I read more during Winter,” she said wistfully, gathering the hem of her skirt as she began to rise, prompting him to rush forward and offer his hand instead. She appeared almost surprised by the gesture, "Oh, thank you.”

Her soft, pale fingers gripped his tightly as he pulled her up steadily, but both being equally as frigid from the weather, they hardly felt the touch at all. As she dusted the snow off of her delicate robe, he noticed the damp patches left from where it had soaked in at her knees. When he released her hand, she walked forward, keeping to the barely visible trail. Sasuke stayed within a reasonable pace, following her up the path until she paused by a stone bench that resided beside a lone willow tree.

"Wait," he stopped her from sitting down with a flourish of his hand. She crooked a delicate brow at him, but then he reached down and shoved the snow off the bench so that she might have a partially dry seat. A bemused look overcame her.

"A gentleman, too," she sat and smoothed out her skirts, the flush in her cheeks deepening. Sakura crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hand as she watched the sun rise from behind the mountains. As light began to filter into their frozen world, so it seemed sound did as well and, though they were both silent, birds began to chirp, singing the song of morning. Sakura's gaze was entranced by the way the sun caressed her empire, but Sasuke paid far more attention to much smaller details. While she watched the snow glisten and sparkle as rays of light hit patches, he noted the way her porcelain skin took on an ethereal glow under the sun. While she listened to the chatter of the birds in the trees, he was attuned to the soft giggle of her amusement at them. While she smiled at the dawn of a new day, he saw the luster in her eyes dull as the light fought to break through the thick clouds. And, as he admired her, he wondered what she meant by that word 'too.'

He had heard the songs written about her beauty, the sonnets, the odes, long before he had ever seen her. Of course, he had never believed them to be true. How could they be? Poetry was hyperbolic nonsense.

But then Sasuke had seen her for the first time. He had been working at the palace for a full month before he had had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon her. As it was, she happened to be on the other side of the grounds, passing under the columned walkways of the palace to avoid the rain. He had been stationed outside of her father's quarters that afternoon, diligent and strict as ever. Yet, he found himself craning for a better look. He wished she would turn her head so that he might see more of her beautiful features, but he managed only to glimpse the curve of her lips as she laughed at something a courtier said.

The first time he looked at her, really _looked_ at her, he was presiding over a banquet with an honored guest of the Emperor's. She was breathtaking and he had wondered in that moment not the validity of those dedications to her beauty, but rather why they had all failed to do her justice. Dressed in the finest gold silks that night, with her fabrics winking in the lights, he had watched her dance and twirl around the room for longer than he cared to count. She had stopped only when her eyes finally rested on him, and then she smiled.

"Some mornings I wish the sun would not rise," she spoke so softly, as if she could keep their quiet seclusion intact, despite the appearance that life around the palace had begun to awaken, "I prefer the intimacy of nighttime and early mornings. I find it more peaceful, contemplative even. Wouldn’t you agree?"

"Of course," he answered automatically, too quickly, and she caught him with a sly grin.

"I asked you a question, Uzumaki-san. Do not agree unless it is how you truly feel,” she appeared sharp and coy, even as she spared him a glance.

"I agree, Haruno-sama," he said carefully, gaze flicking between her and the grounds where the activity around them continued to grow.

"And yet?" She prompted, turning to face him completely, vivid green eyes boring into his.

"And yet, I do not care for the silence of the night. The business of the days are a welcome distraction," he set his jaw tight, adamant that he would say no more, even if she commanded it of him. But to his relief, she spared him.

"I suppose intimacy can often be synonymous with loneliness," she murmured, looking back to her domain, before rising to her feet. He had been so concerned with concluding their conversation that he had forgotten to offer her his hand. She tossed him a subdued smile and said, "Good day, Uzumaki-san."

He watched her go down the path, retreating to her chambers, and waited until she was entirely out of ear shot to say,

"Good day, Haruno-sama."

* * *

When Sakura entered her quarters, the hearth off to the right of her holding a blazing fire, she settled herself at the small table by her window where she had left her books out. For all the grandeur of her title, she kept a decidedly modest sitting room. Either side of the large window that overlooked parts of the gardens and palace grounds, stood lofty bookcases filled with acquired journals, mostly of medicine and its advancements. While she kept the ornate throne on her dais at the back of the room, she rarely found herself using it, preferring instead her little seat by the window.

As she traversed the lines of the text in front of her, she found she could not keep her concentration for more than a few words. It had been some time since the Uzumaki brothers had arrived at the palace, but it was more recently, since her initial encounter with the older brother, that she found her attentions had become somewhat diverted. In fact, it had been her ladies in waiting that had set him in her sights first and so they then found themselves shamelessly out in the sweltering heat the summer before last to watch him on the training grounds with the other soldiers. His striking features aside, he had commanded her focus with his fluid movements and quiet ferocity. Most notably, though, she found herself transfixed by the mystery in his dark eyes, eyes that she had only ever had the pleasure of looking into on a few occasions. As such, whenever she found him around the palace, she always made a point to speak with him, even if he did not always have something to say in return.

She smiled to herself, he was not terrible to look upon either. A knock sounded at her door and she righted herself, coming to her feet, before her father strode in. A small group of soldiers followed closely behind. Emperor Kizashi was a sturdy man, imposing both in his stature and through his booming voice, but his eyes were gentle, those of someone who had known the burden of grief.

"How are you fairing this morning?" he stopped just short of hugging her, placing his hands on her arms and squeezing slightly. The lines in his face crinkled as he smiled at her.

"Well, father,” she nodded, “And yourself?”

"I have experienced better days," he began to pace the length of her room, his head bowed as he spoke thoughtfully, "We have discovered a number of spies within the ranks of our soldiers. They watch us for the Akatsuki. One of them was a guard stationed to you. Rest assured, they will be dealt with appropriately, but in the meantime, the Uzumaki will be at your door."

"Are we safe?" Her breath hitched in her throat and she clutched a hand over her stomach. She felt a cold sweat breaking out over her. Traitors? In their own palace?

"For now," her father peered out the window, catching sight of something and nodding in response, "I will keep us safe.”

He regarded her carefully. The number of people at his court and in his employ that he could trust was dwindling steadily, but he could not let anything happen to her. The Uzumakis were a fine, upstanding family and, at one point, the Emperor’s most powerful and loyal allies. 

“It would be best that you not roam around the grounds on your own anymore,” he said firmly, then, with a nod, turned on his heel. 

Sakura watched her father retreat with his soldiers and caught a glimpse of the Uzumaki’s back as they exited. She rushed forward before the doors closed. He turned at the sound of her hand hitting the wood.

"Uzumaki-San, please come inside,” she beckoned him forward, but only the wind that stirred his hair moved him, “It is too cold for you to be out here all day."

"I am grateful for the concern but I am to guard your door,” he said plainly, sounding as though he were reciting a prepared speech to her.

"Would it not be better to guard me in here,” she asked, swallowing thickly, “Where it is warm?" She hoped he might chock her flushed cheeks up to the bite in the air, rather than the heat she felt from being held under his stare. When he did not respond, her words became harried, “If that is not reason enough, then I am bored and require company."

She swore she saw him smirk before he settled into a concentrated stoicism and turned fully to face her.

"You think me better company than your ladies in waiting?"

"You are more entertaining than they," she smiled, relieved by his humor, then urged him, "Please, come inside.”

He seemed to consider her for a moment before giving a brief nod and following her within. She was right, it was much warmer in her chambers, due mostly to the ample fire burning in her hearth. He stood stiffly in the center of her room, taking in the scant paintings that adorned her walls, until she beckoned him over to a small table. He took the seat opposite her hesitantly, and would not take his eyes away from the window, preferring to remain as diligent as if he were stationed at her doors. She watched him curiously, noting the intensity of his gaze and acuteness of his focus, wondering what exactly it was that he was searching for.

"Did you know that a doctor in India perfected a tensile string that's used in most stitching procedures today?” She asked suddenly.

“No,” twice in a day, Sasuke found himself floored by the unexpectedness of her questions. At her silence, he snapped his eyes up to hers. 

“It is incredibly fascinating,” she pushed one of her scriptures towards him. He gave her an odd look, opening his mouth once more, perhaps to question her, but she spoke before he could formulate the words, "Indulge me. Please."

With a short nod, he took up the pages and began at the top, following the words down. Sasuke knew she was watching him in a most peculiar way but he could not bring himself to react in such a manor that showed he held favor with her interests. To be quite plain, he thought the text was entirely too dull for his liking; it was only an account of the production of the medical tool as well as the application of it in surgery. He recalled the grand tales of valor and adventure that his brother had read to him in their younger years and felt that they held more fascination for him than the words in his hands. However, he had to respect her ability to take pleasure in such a dreary subject, let alone to comprehend it the way she appeared to.

"What do you think?" Her soft voice broke the silence; she seemed to have noticed his eyes lingering at the bottom of the page.

“I am afraid I have no opinion," he shook his head slightly, thumbing the parchment, "It is not a subject I am well versed on."

"Not many people are," she smiled and took the journal from him, fingers brushing against the rough pads of his. Quietly, she delighted in the jolt of his hands as he pulled them out of her reach, "I suppose I have the luxury of studying whatever catches my attention."

_Like you_ , she thought.

"What is your opinion on it?" He countered, watching with curiosity as her already vibrant eyes grew brighter with the opportunity to speak on the subject.

“I am afraid I, too, have no opinion,” her response puzzled him. Had she not incited such a conversation for the purpose of meaningful discourse? “It is difficult to form one when I have not experienced it personally,” Sasuke nodded in understanding, although he was surprised by the depth of her explanation, “However, I do find the practice of medicine fascinating and I should like to think that if I were a surgeon, I would find this new product very helpful. They say, due to the strength of the string, it has cut the time of healing in half. It does not break as easily, therefore the wound is less likely to become infected or require additional attention.”

"Do you think you have the will for surgery?” he asked pointedly. Sasuke doubted very much that she would do well operating on an injured person - being a woman of her prestige, he found it difficult to imagine her in such an environment - and so he couldn't keep the words in his mouth. 

"I would like to find out," challenge flared within her as a small smirk beset her charming features, “The body is a remarkable thing. We have the power to heal ourselves in many ways and now, with the progression of medicinal techniques and tools, we are able to take that power a step further,” Sasuke could feel the excitement she exuded as she spoke, so he held his tongue, “When I was a little girl, I fell off my horse and landed right on my wrist. I could see the outline of my bone through my skin,” Her lips quirked into a smile at the memory, “I was sobbing, it was utterly painful, but I remember being so fascinated by the way the nurses had to set it properly, so carefully, so that it might heal correctly. I found it inspiring and I remember running to my mother that night to tell her I wished to study medicine,” Sasuke was silent, his sharp, captivated eyes daring her to go on, until he saw her face fall. She was quick to pick it up, though, smiling with a practiced acceptance, "Alas, I am not eligible for such a profession."

Sasuke caught himself before he could utter the question that hung on the tip of his tongue. The rest of the world came in clear then. He had been so focused on the curve of her smile, the shade of her eyes and the happiness lurking beneath there, as she shared such private thoughts with him. Thoughts that, quite obviously, were just that; ruminations of dreams that had been lost to her before she could even reach for them. He had been so enthralled by her words that he had forgotten why she was dressed in the finest silks, why her room was so vast and adorned with the finest things, and why she'd spoken with reticent desire instead of zealous intent.

She was meant for a different life.

Her eyes moved to the window where she watched as the snow began to fall and everything around them quieted. She rested her chin on her fist as she'd done earlier, looking far more morose in that moment. As he looked upon her, studying her meditative appearance, Sasuke felt something seep under his skin then, a hushed chill that disturbed his thoughts. It occurred to him that, despite it all, he might feel sympathy for her; that despite her luxuries, privileges, and standing, she was only a person. She had hopes and ambitions like he once did, before it all.

"It was not my intention to make you sad," he paused, scrambling for some semblance of an apology that held more than 'I'm sorry.'

"Of course not," she lowered her eyes, passing over the books in front of her, “It was not my intention to be so candid,” she lifted them to look up at Sasuke.

"I believe you would have success in that field, if - ," his voice subsided until he lost his words within her gaze.

"If I had the opportunity?” She finished, brows raised in anticipation of his endorsement. He nodded and a flush of pink graced her cheeks.

"Perhaps one day," he winced internally at his brash language and fisted his hands tightly as though it might keep him from insulting her any more.

"Perhaps," she laughed lightly, alerting him that maybe she was not so offended by his suggestion, and tapped her fingers on the table, “What about you? Did you always want to become a soldier?"

"I always knew I would be," his eyes deflected to the window, unnerved by her unyielding gaze. Did she know that she did that, looked at him that way?

“But, did you want to be?"

"Yes," _given the circumstances_ , he added quietly.

"Was it because of your parents? The Uzumakis are well known for their valor," she grinned like she was giving him a compliment, “I have met Naruto-san on a few occasions. I admit, I do not see much resemblance," she made a small gesture towards Sasuke, "In features or personality."

"Hn," he nodded curtly, “You are not the first to tell us that."

"Was it your parents? Or was it your brother's influence?” He glanced at her briefly and saw the curiosity evident in her features. What did it matter to her? Why was she so interested?

"Both," Sasuke began to fidget, adjusting himself in the chair. Sakura giggled suddenly.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" She smirked, cocking her head to the side, "Or is it the discussion I've chosen?"

"Both," he frowned, finally turning back to her. He was beginning to wish that the Emperor had chosen someone else to look after his daughter. 

"Why?" She leaned forward, prodding him with the language of her body, the fierceness of her eyes, and the bluntness of her words.

"You ask too many questions," he said boldly, brows furrowed as he leaned away from her.

"I could never sit still when I was a child,” her tone was mirthful, “Especially when I had lessons of etiquette. I know how to behave properly, of course, but at times I make the decision not to," again she smirked as he squirmed beneath her gaze, "How unfortunate for you that I have chosen not to be proper in this moment."

He froze; she was teasing him. Mercilessly, too. Had she nothing better to do? A sharp knock came to the door and Sasuke shot to his feet. Surely he would come into trouble because he had obeyed this indulgent woman, but as he went to open the door, he found only one of the kitchen servants holding a tray of food. She walked silently to where Sakura sat and placed the platter beside her books. Sakura thanked her with an innocent smile and the servant left. Sasuke turned back from the door to see Sakura watching him intently.

"Join me. I suspect you missed breakfast this morning given how early I found you in the gardens,” the dismissiveness of her command told him that she would not take no for an answer. So, against his better judgement, he resumed his seat facing her as she pulled the coverings off her food. Steam arose from the freshly cooked meats and roasted vegetables, alluring Sasuke. She began to cut away pieces, pushing them into a pile towards him. When she had finished she offered him the fork. He shook his head. 

"I will eat tonight."

"I am not offering, Uzumaki-san," she held the fork out to him again. Sasuke bit his tongue and took the knife instead, stabbing it through a piece of chicken. Sakura waited until he had placed the food on his tongue to begin eating. He tried not to let slip to her the enraptured bliss his tastebuds were experiencing from the delicacies before him, because he could see her watching for any indication of it.

They ate in silence for some time, throughout which Sakura continued to push different things to what was becoming his side of the plate. He tried not to watch her, not to look at her, especially when she caught him, but he found it very hard to avert his eyes. For all her delicate sensibilities and soft features, she ate like many of the men he roomed with in the barracks. Sakura attacked her food as one might an army, and showed no shame for it. Yet, somehow, she still managed to look no less beautiful as she tried to break off a piece of chewy meat with her teeth, laughing all the while.

Finally, they had cleared the plate and, truthfully, Sasuke had not found it hard. Skipping breakfast had made him particularly famished and he found that the cooks spared no expense on the seasonings for her meals.

"Thank you," she patted her full lips with a cloth napkin and set it down on the table, "They always give me too much food."

Sakura gravitated to a cup of red, prickly spheres on the tray and took one up, twirling it between her fingers.

“Hn.”

He watched as she peeled back the spiked skin, revealing an almost translucent flesh.

"Have you had one of these before?" She asked, wielding the small, now naked ball. Sasuke shook his head, "They come from China. They're called lychees. It's a popular fruit there and I came across them while we travelled one summer. It was such an unbearably hot day,” Sakura admired the fruit fondly, “And they were so refreshing. I grow them here, but I've yet to produce one as sweet or succulent as that first one I consumed," Sakura offered him the berry and he took it without question; he didn’t have the will or the chance to defy her.

When he popped it in his mouth, she picked up another one and began peeling again. He chewed and found that the skin gave way easily, but a hard pit lay in the center, causing him to almost spit it out. Sakura laughed, recognizing the look on his face,

"I was surprised the first time I ate one, too. I was not expecting it."

Sasuke chewed around the pit carefully, tearing away the sweet, clear pieces of fruit and savoring the juices that gushed forth. When he finished, he pulled it out of his mouth and left it on their finished plate. He watched as Sakura sucked part of the fruit into her mouth, an obscene flick of her tongue aiding in flaying the skin off the berry. He dropped his eyes when she caught him staring.

"I have never had anything so sweet," he spoke with a sense of marvel. 

"It is my favorite fruit,” she declared, tossing her pit beside his, “So harsh and foreboding on the outside, but completely contrary on the inside.”

She began to peel another berry, eyes glinting in a way that he found most mischievous and, quite suddenly, he felt himself falling into a familiarity so perilous that it enveloped him whole; a sensation that awoke his mind, ripping him from the confines of his own misery and infusing his blood with a radiance that kindled a fire he had not known he held.

Why did she look at him that way? Why did she scrutinize him with such fervor?

Why did he let her?

She appeared to want to possess him, to strip him of his armor until he was bared before her, until every part of him was exposed to her gluttony. And even then she would not be satisfied until she burrowed within that secret place inside of him, that well of darkness where he cast his deepest secrets.

But instead of fear, it inspired a precarious fascination within him.

And yet, he felt something warning him to leave, to keep his distance from her in that moment. He did not know her, was unaware of her true intentions, and had somehow become the subject of her eccentric impulses in a single afternoon. If he was not careful, he might overstay his welcome.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Haruno-sama, but I should resume my post now," he rose from the table and, though she was attentive to his movements, she made no move to stop him. Sakura watched him go, keeping silent until he was at the door. 

"Thank you for the company," she said quietly and he caught sight of a contented smile on her lips before he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

In the cold, crisp air, he felt like he could finally breathe again, like time had resumed and he was no longer imprisoned by her presence. He shook his fingers through his hair and ran his hands down his face, exasperated breath puffing in front of him, as the snow blanketed the world around him.

* * *

Sakura found herself disquieted that night. The fireplace in her bedroom burned heartily, warming her chambers, and her thick sheets were as soft and comforting as ever, but she could not find sleep. At nightfall, somebody new had been posted within her sitting room should she need anything, but the fact that it was not Sasuke irked her terribly. Try as she might, she could not cast out the haunting depth of his eyes nor the strength of his features that so incessantly plagued her.

He was a handsome man, made even more intriguing by his obscurity, but she had to wonder how it had been for Naruto to have grown up with a brother so different. From the little time they had spent together, she had always known Naruto to be so exuberant and happened to share Sakura's enthusiasm in all things, yet it was difficult to obtain a response in anything from Sasuke. She remembered how outspoken Naruto had been about his affections towards one of her ladies in waiting. It still brought a smile to her face thinking of how unabashed Naruto had been in his courtship. She could not imagine Sasuke ever being so passionate about anything the way Naruto was. . . Or anyone.

She turned to the other side of her bed, unaware that he was as restless just on the other side of the palace grounds.

* * *

Like tiny threads woven through his body, stitched within his sinew and bone, he felt something pulling him from another fitful slumber. He sat up straight, the echo of Itachi’s voice prominent in his mind, calling Sasuke’s name like a cursed prayer. He shook the covers off, letting the dream fall away with them. Taking up his uniform, he donned it promptly and took off to the gardens. The world was almost pitch black, only a thin crescent moon and a sprinkling of stars hung over the frozen grounds. He crossed the length of the path surrounding the lake until he’d almost worn away the fresh snow that lay there.

Sasuke was growing tired of these memories that had gnarled and twisted into near unrecognizable visions of terror. It was becoming increasingly difficult to trust the allure of sleep these days. With a despondent exhale, Sasuke seated himself at the bench beside the willow tree and watched the sun rise.

Gradually, the world around him came to life. The birds tweeted merrily, groundskeepers began their rounds, and the Emperor's daughter emerged from her rooms. She spotted him and smiled so brilliantly he thought the sun ought to be ashamed.

“Good morning, Uzumaki-san,” she had the fabric of her skirts gathered in gloved hands to allow her longer strides in her effort to reach him.

“Good morning, Haruno-sama,” out of courtesy, Sasuke stood and offered her his seat.

“Will you sit with me today?” she would not take it until he complied with a simple nod and seated himself beside her. The arm of the stone dug into his side as he moved to keep a healthy distance between them, “How did you sleep? I suppose it was not well, as you seem to have been out here for some time.”

“You slept better than I,” he assured her, training his eyes to the icy lake, though he could sense her probing stare.

“Do you think so?” she asked, tugging at the hems of her gloves like she was itching to remove them.

“Did you not?” he meant to spare her a brief glance. Instead, he lost himself to the depths of her verdant orbs, caught in the light that seemed not to reflect, but rather emanate from the recesses there.

“No,” she responded gently, as though it were a trivial thing, “I found I had to exhaust myself into the wee hours of morning before I was able to sleep.”

“Are you troubled?” Sasuke wasn’t entirely sure why he was asking. As a guard, it was his duty to defend her against any physical problems that sought to disturb her. However, he suspected she was not plagued by physical matters. Emotions, issues of the heart, intangible things that he could not grasp - well, that was not his area of proficiency.

“I suspect so,” she trailed off then, breaking their eye contact to stare into the horizon, “No matter,” she came to her feet abruptly then, causing Sasuke to shoot to his. She laughed softly, “Uzumaki-san, you are more a gentleman than my suitors.”

“It is my job, Haruno-sama,” he evaded her eyes when she took hold of his arm brazenly and led him down the path to her sitting room.

“With respect to your training, I doubt that is what they taught you to become a soldier,” she gave an intonation to her words that bordered on humorous. Rather than offer up an inane response, Sasuke kept his mouth shut tight. He had not learned manners by training with fellow guards, it was true.

It was his mother that had taught him from a young age to rise when a lady rises, to offer his seat when she came, and to give his respect to her in every manner.

“Do you play shogi, Uzumaki-san?” She allowed him to open her doors for her and led him inside. It was still early and no one had come to light her fire yet. Nonetheless, the room had retained its warmth from the previous night.

“I have not played in some time,” Sasuke kicked the snow off his boots at her entryway, watching her traipse to her bookcase to pull the board and its pieces out.

“In that case, we should make it a bet,” she laid the game out on her table as he approached her with a smirk.

“Because you are confident you would win?”

“Oh, I am certain of it,” she said humorously, earning her a chuckle from him. He tried not to notice the way she seemed to take enjoyment from his amusement. As they took their seats and prepared the board, Sakura looked up suddenly, “I do not know your name.”

“Uzumaki is fine,” Sasuke said stiffly, moving one of his pieces. She tapped her finger on the table, watching him with a curiosity undeterred by his curt manner.

“Do you know my name?” She asked.

Sasuke was beginning to wonder if she was aware that she spoke her thoughts so loud and freely.

“Yes,” his brows furrowed. He doubted anyone in the Emperor’s land did not know her name, nor the reason for it.

“Say it,” she took her fingers away from the board and leaned back in her chair. Sasuke swallowed; was this a trick? A test? What pleasure could she possibly derive from the utterance of her name? His eyes met hers tentatively.

“Sakura.”

He had spoken the word so often in his mind, fleeting, in passing mostly, but a shiver ran through him as he gave voice to it. There was a meaning behind it now, a weight to the word that hadn’t existed before that moment and he felt it resting on his tongue,

“You were named Sakura, because your mother had gone into labor beneath a cherry blossom tree and had given birth to you on the first day of spring.”

“What is your name?” Sakura seemed unfazed by his knowledge surrounding her birth and he suspected he was not the first to recite her own beginnings to her.

“It is unimportant,” he crossed his arms over his chest, and regarded her warily,

“I disagree,” she shook her head lightly, green orbs sobering the longer she looked at him, “It has become very important to me to know your name. I do not wish to continue to call you Uzumaki-san, most especially if you are to be my guard indefinitely.”

_Perhaps he was not the first soldier to be subjected to her willful mannerisms_ , he thought idly. Perhaps this was simply how she was. Perhaps this was the only way she could find entertainment within the palace, through inflicting such intimate conversation upon others unfortunate enough to be in her presence. Perhaps it was just as she said; how unfortunate for him.

“My name is Sasuke,” he felt the uneasy churn in his stomach as he spoke, “But you may call me what you wish, Haruno-sama.”

“Sakura,” she said earnestly, “Please, Sasuke-kun.”

He tensed under her open gaze, at the sound of a name not uttered in years. It was so sweet and unassuming as it passed through her lips, unbridled of pain or indignity. But she seemed to sense the onus it bore; she would not look away from him, waiting for his secrets to surface. He supposed she had to know they were there, woven into his skin, burrowed in his bones. They bubbled under the surface, inspiring the heat of anxiety through his body and the chill of fear in his heart. Did she see it, he wondered, the flicker of terror in his eyes or the tension in his shoulders?

She spoke his name once more, drawing each letter out with a pleasured smile so sinful that he felt his heart stutter in his chest. He dropped his eyes to the game between them, wary of letting the consequence of her voice show. He motioned to the pieces on the board.

“It is still your turn, Sakura-san.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next frigid morning, upon awaking far too early and much too often, Sasuke bypassed the gardens and placed himself directly outside of Sakura's doors to await her. He thought it only inevitable that she would seek him out before it was time to resume his post, and why should he prolong the inevitable? He could convince himself that his anticipatory actions were only practical, but, truthfully, that morning, he had found a motivation within him, a keenness to seek _her_ out instead. The desire had burrowed inside his mind, permeated his thoughts, and seemed to cloud all reason. It silenced the voice inside that told him he should keep his distance, that she was a danger, that nothing good would come from her companionship.

She was the Emperor's daughter, after all.

And yet, there he was, waiting diligently for her, gazing at the morning light and wondering what exactly she would have in store for him that day. Would she vex him with more incessant questions? Would she like to puzzle him with a myriad of topics he had no basis of knowledge in? Or would she simply like to beat him mercilessly at another game of shogi?

With a bemused smile, he thought that he should not have been surprised by her cunning at such a strategic game. She seemed to have a prolific talent when it came to positioning people right where she wanted them, be it through simple action or dexterous syntax. It had hardly been a few days and he had already found himself at the mercy of her silver tongue more times than he could count.

Or than he would like.

The doors opened behind him, silencing his thoughts, and he turned about.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," there was surprise in her voice and a smile on her face as she found him waiting. Sasuke bowed his head as the night guard left and halted before responding,

"Good morning, Sakura-san."

"How did you sleep?" she ushered him inside her sitting room where he noted the fire was already blazing. He was grateful for the warmth as it seemed it was to be a particularly cold day. The frost on the outside of her large window was evidence of that.

"I suppose as well as you," he offered, glancing at her adorned countenance. Though she looked as beautiful as the day before, perhaps more so, he could see a vacancy in her eyes, the indication of her lack of rest. If he had not become caught in her verdant gaze, he might not have noticed at all.

"You suppose correctly," she laughed and took her seat by the window again. He wondered why she did not use the throne that sat like a statuesque ornament in the back of the room; it seemed more decorative than functional. In fact, Sasuke thought it odd that she so rarely seemed to exercise power over him, and that, when she did, it was for the most trivial of things, like commanding him to share a meal with her.

"Then you are still troubled?" He furrowed his brows as he looked down at her, but Sakura was staring wistfully at the world outside. Not a shaft of light was able to penetrate the thick clouds that day, so only a dim illumination caressed her features. The storm was starting, snow falling heavy and thick as she watched, further obscuring the glass.

"I am, though I would not know where to begin," she heaved a weary sigh and propped her chin upon her open palm, "To understand it, I mean."

Sasuke stood awkwardly beside her, his posture rigid; he should not be listening to her talk of such things. It was improper for a royal and a commoner, let alone a woman and a man who was certainly not her husband.

"Is this not something better discussed with your ladies?" Even he was surprised at the frustration in his voice, but she did seem to know how to irk him. Although, Sakura did not appear to be as bothered by the abrasiveness of his tone.

"I suppose," she said slowly, gaze dropping from the window to the table. He could see her studying him through her peripheral and measured his next words,

"Where are they today?"

"I do not require them when you are here," she simpered, fixing him with an odd look as though he were a puzzle missing pieces. Was he to take that as a compliment? His brows furrowed as she beckoned him to the seat facing her. He took it promptly, obedient to her command, much to his dismay. Sakura leaned forward, jewels clinking together with the movement. He could not help but notice that day that she had unbound two elongated tendrils of hair to frame the curves of her face. Like a silken waterfall, they fell to her waist and he found himself looking not at the shimmering gems seated atop her head, but at the loosed strands instead. "What would you like to do today, Sasuke-kun?"

He snapped his eyes to hers, catching sight of that coy smile lingering on her lips.

"I believe that responsibility lies with you, Sakura-san," he responded resolutely.

"I do wish that you would simply call me Sakura," she mused, becoming forlorn as she glanced once again at the dismal condition of the weather just outside her window.

"Does it make a difference?" his tone held a twinge of irritation, but it seemed not to bother her since she smiled at his grit.

"Yes, it does," she kept her eyes infuriatingly cast to the snowfall, refusing him the satisfaction of meeting his annoyed visage.

"Would it make you feel normal?" he leaned forward, clasping his hands in his lap, rather eager for a response from her. He supposed that was the only explanation for such a silly request. Such familiarity was customarily reserved for those select few who truly knew her, for the ones closest to her.

"No," she shook her head, laughing to herself. A compromising flush took over her cheeks when she looked at him unabashedly. He watched a slim finger twirl itself in one of those loose tendrils, covering her skin until he could see nothing but the tip of her nail, before she released it leisurely. He was transfixed as it unfurled back to her waist. She considered him for a long breath, a recognition of something apparent in her expression. Sakura exhaled softly and murmured quietly, "It would make me feel special."

He clenched his fists and drew himself back, pulling in a deep breath to quell the flutter of his heart. Not for the first time, she had caught him off guard. Was it his recitation of her name that would make it special? Or was it merely to be called by her given name, no matter the person? Was it the informality of referring to her as such? The fact that, for however brief a moment, she was not regarded as royalty? Sasuke berated himself silently. He should not be wondering such things. What did it matter the reason? She was his superior and he should do as he was told.

Sakura seemed embarrassed by her admission and was made even more so as he contemplated silently to himself. Though she pondered his reaction to her statement, she also found she was eager to move past the uncomfortable quiet. Moreover, she was fearful she might have upset him.

"We could talk of my aspirations for a career in medicine," she laughed, a flippant exhale accompanied by an errant wave of her hand, "Or, perhaps we could sample more foreign delicacies," her shoulders tensed as she pulled herself up from the slouch she had been in, "And if that does not succeed in passing the time, I suppose I could always bore you with more useless information about medicine."

He watched her expression droop with a frown; he did not understand her. This was more than a restlessness provoked by a dormant season. Something plagued Sakura in a disturbing, encompassing way. He was certain of it. From the dip in her brow, to the listlessness of her gaze, and even the stiffness of her posture, he could see it. What nightmares could possibly plague her? What errant thoughts caused her discomfort? Furthermore, what was he to do about it? For only a moment, he wondered if it was all an act, a means to some end he had yet to foresee. Perhaps she did it on purpose, intonating in such a way as to raise his suspicions so that he might do. . . what?

But as quickly as the thought came, it was gone, because he could see quite clearly in those jade eyes the desperation behind her blight. She _did_ want something from him, but it was not what he thought. She wanted a distraction.

Sasuke turned his head ever so slightly, still keeping her within his sights, but averting their contact. He felt his chest swell with the words before he'd had a chance to assess them. He spoke quietly, voice almost lost in the crackle of the fire opposite them,

"I doubt very highly that you could ever begin to bore me."

"Hm," Sakura brought her fingers to her mouth, skimming them across her lips. He felt the air calm between them when she giggled, "Careful, you have given me a rather tempting challenge."

Sasuke smirked and looked back to her, in awe and at a loss from her humor. She in turn smiled so genuinely that he wondered how anything could tamper with her spirit so thoroughly. Though he could only imagine what it might be, he thought then that he would like to do whatever in his power to keep that smile on her face, to keep her from looking out that window with such a melancholy gaze. Was she aware of how much her beauty grew when she smiled? He supposed it could be, if he told her, Sakura might keep that smile painted there indefinitely.

"I wish to indulge in anything that gives you pleasure," Sasuke said plainly, drawing the words from a place within him that her presence was quickly coming to occupy, "If that includes books of medicine, or food sampling, so be it."

"You give me pleasure," she rested her chin on her hand again, leveling him with captivating eyes, "I would like to indulge in you."

Sasuke at once became skeptical; he was unsure of what precisely that entailed, but it both delighted and petrified him. Reticent of her interest, he began,

"I do not think - ,"

"What books do you prefer?" She interrupted him quickly, quelling his protests. He was careful not to show how much she unnerved him, so he composed himself before he answered,

"I have not read enough."

"Have you experienced much music in your life?" Sakura tilted her head, studying him as he came to notice she did when he spoke.

"Only lullabies," he said, beginning to ponder how odd it was that he was her subject of choice, and that she sought out such specific details of his life, "From my childhood."

"What was it like growing up with a sibling?" she sounded a bit envious as she expounded, "I've always wondered how it might have been to grow up with another child."

Sasuke swallowed thickly. Once again, she had come too close for comfort, bordering the edge of his defenses. Did she realize that? Was she doing it on purpose? Was she willfully ignorant? Or was she simply naive? Whatever it was, surely she must know how much she affected him, try as he might to conceal it from her.

Still, he did not wish to lie to her, but he was unsure why - perhaps because she was so obstinately forthright with him? For that, he supposed that he owed her much the same in turn. . .

Or at least as much as he could give her.

"Naruto enjoyed it far more than I did," Sasuke adjusted his posture in the chair, trying to keep his eyes on her through the process.

"Why does it make you uncomfortable to speak about your family?" She questioned brusquely.

"Do you think me uncomfortable?" Sasuke cocked one of his brows. She _did_ know _._ Then, why did she pester him so?

"Yes," she laughed as if it were the most obvious notion, "You become terribly restless when I ask about them."

"I had not noticed," Sasuke shrugged, hoping to portray nonchalance.

"You have just done it again," Sakura pointed accusingly at him, "Your movements become forced, it looks unnatural."

"How can you tell that?" his brows furrowed in confusion.

"When we are in unpleasant positions or situations, we pay more attention to the way we present ourselves and make adjustments accordingly. Often times we do not notice it; it is simply the body's defensive response, a product of our subconscious," she gestures to him, "When we are comfortable, or find that we are enjoying ourselves, we become more relaxed; our postures slacken, our shoulders drop - little things like that."

"Did you learn that from your medical books?" he fought the scowl that threatened to break free. How was it that she could read _him_ like one of her journals?

"Years of etiquette training," she responded with a grin, "Years of learning how to behave in uncomfortable situations. Years of attendance at courts," she exhaled a soft laugh, "And a lifetime of watching people interact with my father."

"Because they fear him?"

"Don't you?" She asked curiously.

Sasuke supposed he did, somewhere within him; the man was the Emperor, after all, the supreme ruler of the only land he'd ever called home. But he also new _real_ fear, that palpable, visceral response of the body and psyche that cast out rational thought, leaving room only for the response of fight or flight. He knew fear, had looked into its rapacious eyes and been consumed by its violent soul. Kizashi was not a man of fear. He was not a man _to be_ feared.

"I respect him," he answered resolutely. Sakura expressed a thoughtful hum and nodded in understanding.

"Respect breeds respect, don't you think?" She was staring at him quite intently then, but this time, he did not feel the urge to look away.

"Yes."

"I respect you, Sasuke-kun," she said softly, without missing a beat. There was no hilarity in her tone, no indication that she was poking fun at him or goading him for her amusement. She was serious, gravely so, as it seemed the course of her joviality hinged on the response he would give her.

But there was nothing for him to think about. With a quieted, but sure voice, he said,

"You already have my respect, Sakura."

A blush crept over her skin and she turned her eyes to the window while Sasuke watched the smile resume on her face.

* * *

Sakura swung herself to the other side of her bed, fitful in a way that was becoming too familiar to her. However, that night, she would not allay the thoughts disquieting her sleep for anything. She had replayed the day in her mind over and over until she had effectively memorized every intonation of his words and tilt of his lips. She recalled the way she had managed to crack his stoicism with a simple joke and the echo of his laughter seared a smile upon her face **.** She let his voice linger, his words winding through her body to plant themselves in her heart.

_You already have my respect._

A giddy feeling fluttered in her stomach, rolling over her and settling around her like a thick blanket. She was infatuated and enamored by him, craving the look in his eyes when he gazed upon her; the way he watched her so adamantly and attentively. He seemed to regard her with a genuine interest, to not only take in her sentiments and mentations, but to do so in stride. His subtle efforts to engage and contribute so did not go unnoticed by her. Whether it was out of a desire to humor her or simply because he did not wish to rebuff her, she did not know, but she hoped for the former. She wanted to experience more of him, to know more of him, to _have_ more of him. She wanted to bask in these feelings he sparked within her and in the joy she felt in his presence.

She was willing to admit to herself that she, in some ways, delighted in making him so flustered with her inane questioning. It was not without its purpose, though. With each day that passed, she came to understand his coarse demeanor just a little bit more and she wondered just precisely what it was that he was harboring beneath that unflinching exterior. Sakura tossed atop her bed with a sigh.

Surely she should not find herself so fascinated with a simple guard.

But then again, Sasuke was not so simple.

* * *

_"You have to be brave for me, darling. You have to listen to your brother, no matter what he says," the voice trembled, vibrating as the world surrounding them collapsed. He would not open his eyes; he did not want to see. It was difficult enough to hear the sorrow in her words._

_"I do not want to go," his voice was cold, distant, rougher than it should have been._

_"Be brave for me, Sasuke. I love you."_

_"I do not want to go!" Sasuke yelled, the ferocity in his words startling him._

_"You have to be brave for me, darling," she repeated, her voice cracking and breaking, "You have to listen to your brother, no matter what he says. Be brave for me, Sasuke. I love you."_

_Why was she not listening to him? Did she not care what happened to them?_

_They should not leave. They had to stay together! How else could they protect each other?_

_"I will not - "_

_He opened his eyes and was consumed by fire. Her image burned into nothing before him. The hands that had been wrapped around him, embracing him for the last time, disintegrated. All that remained was the echo of her words and the hollow pit of her loss. Sasuke ran forward, dirt crunching beneath his feet, branches snapping against his arms, as he tried to run into the pyre ahead of him. But the closer he came, the more difficult it was to see. Smoke, a thick black haze, blurred his vision more than the tears that fell plentiful down his face. Around him, the sharp groan of buckling wood rose almost above the screams of his clan. It was too much and he went to his knees on the ground, locking his hands over his head._

_Suddenly, he was being pulled again, yanked away from the tremors that upset his world and led back into the darkness, to the safety of pitch black. He did not know where he was going, but he no longer cared. He just knew that he needed to get away, and he felt a solace there, in the darkened silence, as he was dragged down, falling once more into nothing._

* * *

There was a chill in the air when he woke, cooling the perspiration on his heated skin almost instantly. Sasuke sat up sharply, one hand clutching his sheets and the other flattened against the cold wall. His chest heaved, expelling the fear and dread polluting his body with every uneven breath. His nightmares were merciless now. They had sunk their claws in his heart, teeth snapping and lashing at its rotting center. He was already a broken man, what more damage could they possibly do?

But he had to wonder, why now? For so long he believed that he had been able to lock those loathsome secrets away, somewhere far within that even he would not be able to find, scattered like pieces of torn parchment and taken by the gust of his sorrow.

But it seemed they had found him instead.

His head rose unsteadily to peer out the window. The clouds were too heavy to see the moon, but he wagered that it was late enough in the early morning for him to dress and leave the barracks.

As he stepped outside, he noticed that the snow must not have stopped falling since he left her rooms the previous day. It now reached his mid calf as he trudged forward, his normal path completely hidden from his eyes. The lake was buried beneath a few inches laid upon its thick sheet of ice and he could not even see the stone bench beside the willow tree. Silently, Sasuke hoped that the fire in her sitting room was blazing. They would need it that day.

* * *

When she opened her doors to him, she did so with a thick blanket draped over her shoulders, the train of her skirt peeking out from under it. As the night guard left, Sasuke entered and saw the robust fire aided by numerous candles to illuminate the space around them.

"How are you this morning?" She asked glumly and he supposed that that time it did have something to do with the weather.

"Well enough," he watched her tread to the back of the room where she had mistakenly left the door to her private quarters aloft. He could not help but tilt his head just so to glimpse what lay inside; perhaps it might provide some clarity to the enigma that was the woman before him, "And you?"

"I should like to set this snow aflame," she muttered bitterly, turning back to him as she released the handle. Sasuke chuckled as she carried herself listlessly to her table by the window. He could not recall ever seeing her so careless with her posture and gait. Outside of her rooms she seemed to glide through the palace grounds, an entity of poise and perfection, unhindered by the flaws of mortals. Yet, in the privacy of her rooms, in the presence of him, her guard, she appeared frighteningly human. She beckoned him forward as she took her seat, "I am afraid I have not yet become accustomed to these winters."

"No?" Sasuke pulled out his chair and sat stiffly as her eyes followed him.

"I am used to spending the winters at the other palace, but that was before the war came to our doorstep and it was not so dangerous to travel beyond these walls," she recalled pensively. He bristled at the thought.

"Surely there have been greater losses in this war," he bit out, paling as soon as the words left his mouth. Sasuke cursed himself inwardly; he should not have spoken to her so recklessly, or so crudely. It was not his place. Sakura turned her eyes on him, narrowing them sharply, her lips pursed.

"Of course," she agreed, unwilling to let him flee from the steel of her gaze, though he did not try. He held it steady, awaiting the inevitable reprimanding that he deserved for speaking out of turn. But then she softened, her expression falling as she said calmly, "I suppose it is easy to ignore the extent of this war's reach when we live inside a gilded cage. It is a privilege I often forget I am awarded."

"I did not mean - ,"

"Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she bowed her head slightly, "For reminding me."

He was silent as she returned her stare to the world outside. Swallowing his compunction, he awaited her direction.

* * *

Sasuke had not expected such humility from her. Or patience. Or forgiveness. Jarring as it was for him, it did not seem to weigh upon her much at all. Rather, she took it in stride, with all the grace and aplomb one would expect from a ruler. So, he wondered why it was he still dwelled on such a simple action so long after he'd parted from her. He laid upon his cot, staring up at the ceiling. His belly was full from dinner, the moon was high, the snow having stopped later that day, and he was warm beneath the blankets provided to him, but he could not sleep. Granted, he was not eager to seek out the dreams that had been haunting him of late, but for all purposes, he was properly comfortable enough to finally rest. The only piece of him that seemed reluctant to do so was his mind that remained intent on recounting the events of the day, to his interminable chagrin.

He should not have acted so rashly; she did not know what such a sentiment would mean to him, what he had lost in this war. She could not have known the impact her innocuous words would have on him. She could not have known that it was like a knife twisting in his gut. It had not been her fault. Like her, he had been born into it.

He wondered just how much her father told her about the war, if anything at all. Perhaps he sought to keep her from its atrocities until it was her time to assume the throne. But would the war last that long? What would she do then? If it fell on her shoulders, could she bear its weight?

Sasuke shifted beneath the covers, the anxiety of his thoughts permeating his very bones. It was not an act so uncommon to admit one was wrong, so it should not have meant so much. But it did somehow. It weighed upon him with a significance he could not yet comprehend. Much like the boundless depths of her eyes, he feared it was something he could lose himself in if he was not careful.

Still, he had difficulty staving off his thoughts of her. By now he had realized, and perhaps even accepted, that she was a fascination to him. She spoke with an intelligence and understanding beyond her years. She exuded majesty and dignity, but she was not above compassion. It made her beautiful and lethal in her attraction to him. But it also made her more dangerous than he ever would have expected her to be.

And yet he could not wait to see her the next morning. He could not wait to hear the questions she would pose to him. He could not wait to see the smile that would bless her face. He could not wait to find ways to spend the day with her.

Turning on his side, the cot giving a soft squeak beneath him, he resolved to put the whole thing, and her, out of his mind. It did him no good to think of such things, especially so late at night. Tomorrow was not so far away. He would see her then, and he knew by the morning that she would find some new way to surprise him.

She always did, after all.

* * *

"Tomorrow is your day of rest, correct?" Sakura took a seat on the stone bench facing the lake. The sun was finally out, shining on her in favor, thawing away at the snow still on the ground.

"Yes."

Sasuke had taken his place beside the willow tree, shaking his head when she offered him to sit. There was much activity already about the palace given the more pleasant conditions that morning, so he was careful to keep his distance. He did not think it wise to leave their comfort with each other open for the world to see. Sakura did not press the matter, so he assumed she had either understood and shared his reasoning, or, for once, she did not feel it was a battle she would have won.

She straightened herself and placed her bare hands in her lap. Though there was a nip in the air, she had neglected her gloves for the sole purpose and intent to take Sasuke's hand when she inevitably rose to her feet.

"You should know, I shall be inconsolable tomorrow," her tone lilted towards humorous as she peered up at him with doleful eyes. His brows furrowed the longer she kept his gaze and he bit back a more acerbic response. Kami, help him.

"You will manage," he tore himself away, focusing instead on a group of guards making their way to the training building. Why did she put him in such compromising positions intentionally? How was he meant to respond to such a leaden accusation?

If he did not know any better, he would think she were infatuated with him. Sasuke set his jaw tight, curling his hands to fists as they rested behind him. Ridiculous. How silly of him to think that. She was royalty, and she knew nothing of him.

"Do not make light of my sorrow, Sasuke-kun," he turned to her then, watching the way she wrung her fingers together, fighting off something he could not quite recognize, but had edged its way into her gaze and into her words, "How cruel."

"I did not mean to be cruel, only truthful," his hands twitched as he felt an unanticipated urge to reach for her then. He wished to take her upon his chest and soothe whatever ache he had created. Sasuke exhaled sharply; how absurd. He let his vision waver from her again. He had almost forgotten about his rest day; he was becoming accustomed to her presence at all hours. But now, it could not come soon enough; he was desperate for a reprieve from her. He needed to breathe, to think, to cleanse himself of her company, even if only for a day.

"Why are you so quiet all the time?" he heard the tremor in her voice, but it was not despondence, "It is infuriating."

Sasuke seethed as he turned on her.

"Then perhaps it would benefit you to replace me," he snapped. Sakura shot to her feet and closed the short distance between them.

"Why should I want anybody else?" she was shaking with fury before him, tendrils of wild pink locks pulled free, framing her beautifully twisted face.

"You scrutinize me and question me every second I am around you. Do you enjoy making me miserable?" he clenched his jaw and forbade himself from saying anything else. That had not come out as he had intended. He was too harsh and he saw that something in her eyes crumble as his words hit her with the full force of his ire.

"I do not seek to make you miserable," her jade orbs shimmered as she raised a dainty hand between them. He flinched as he watched her push forward, pressing her palm flat to his chest. Slowly, she lowered her eyes and spread her fingers out over the space above his heart. His breath hitched; surely she could feel how rapidly it began to beat then. But if she did, she made no comment on it. She did not subject him to her merciless observation or lecture him on what his obvious reaction possibly meant. She only parted her lips, drawing in a sharp breath, before uttering a quiet plea, "I wish only to understand you."

Sasuke took up his hand, reaching for hers, ready to take it in his grasp, but she turned away. He faltered, her name caught in his throat, as she began walking back, towards her quarters. Despondent and with his eyes cast to the ground, Sasuke followed a safe distance behind.

* * *

He was distracted. He could still evade attacks, but he couldn't land a punch. Nobody volunteered to spar with Uzumaki Sasuke, not unless they had a desire wind up face down on the ground, but suddenly everyone was eager for their chance at a victory against him. It never came, but there were too many close calls. Too many times his defenses came up late. Too many times he nearly lost his footing trying to sidestep a leg. Too many times his fist could not meet its target. He was _distracted_.

And he knew precisely why.

Sasuke bowed to his opponent and stepped aside for the next soldier to spar. He trekked to one of the open windows, taking in the cooling breeze that kissed his perspiring skin. Taking up the end of his wrappings, he started unwinding them from each arm, casting his gaze to the gardens outside.

He was distracted because she was there, sitting on the stone bench beside the willow tree. Dutifully at her side were her ladies in waiting, every one of them with a perfect view inside the dojo. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he caught her gaze and tried to quell the feeling that rose within him when she smiled. She was dressed in a bright yellow jūnihitoe that kissed the ground as she sat. Paired with her pink hair twisted high, she was a vision against the dreary absence of color outside. As he watched her, he saw her shiver against the wind and pull her robes closer.

Sasuke frowned. Would she freeze out there just to see him? What was she thinking?

Coming to kneel on the floor, he stuffed his cotton bindings in his pack, then pulled out the rest of his uniform. He redressed hastily, throwing on his tunic and then his vest. With his bag on his shoulder, he left the building and walked out into the frigid winter air. He walked along the trail towards the gardens with a sour expression on his face; it was his day of rest, and yet he still could not be rid of her. When he finally came upon the Emperor's daughter and her envoy, she looked all too pleased to see him.

"You should be inside, Haruno-sama, with a guard," he addressed her directly, sternly, "Keeping warm."

"I miss my garden," she simpered. Her ladies petted her affectionately, consolingly, all the while shivering in the harsh wind. Would she subject them to the same torture just for her own insipid impulses?

"Do you not think you have seen enough of it now?" He asked, though he knew she had not paid any attention to it at all. He knew, because he had been too busy paying attention to _her_ to properly fight.

"Not at all. I am quite happy to spend the rest of my days out here," she looked to her ladies, only one of whom nodded in agreement. He recognized her; Hinata. Sakura turned back to him, simpering with a devious glint in her eyes, "You are so gracious to be concerned for us, Uzumaki-san."

Sasuke clenched the hand that gripped the strap of his pack tighter.

"It is my duty," he said flatly, but Sakura could see the slightest hint of a scowl breaking across his rigid features. With a bow of her head, he turned on his heel and made for the barracks. There was no doubt in his mind that she had ventured outside for the sole purpose of being able to watch him. Why was it that she took so much pleasure in playing these games with him? In toying with him so? And why was it that he could not even have a moment of peace without her? Not even with his own thoughts?

Sasuke resolved to prove his point by emerging not a half hour later to pass through the gardens. He smirked to himself, satisfied when he saw that Sakura was nowhere to be found.

* * *

She could not shake the image of Sasuke, perspiring and half naked, as he pit himself against his fellow soldiers. He commanded attention through his technique and skill. Every sweep of his arm or kick of his leg had kept her captivated. Even if she had wanted to, she would not have been able to look away.

After their spat the previous day, she had let him stay outside, finding that she needed some peace of mind and marveling at the concept that it might not involve him. But now, she was unable to stall her thoughts of him. She _wanted_ to think of him. She _wanted_ to remember the way he had so strictly chastised her for being out in the cold. She _wanted_ to imagine how he might act around her tomorrow. She _wanted_ him. She wanted him as she had never wanted any courtier that had gone so far as to pledge their love to her. Admitting that thought alone stirred new fantasies to life within her.

Sakura imagined that, with all his carefully concealed passion, Sasuke would conjure a gaze that would promise much more than mere words ever could. She desired to see him look at her in such a way, the same way it was described in novels when a man gazed at the woman they adored. Her cheeks flushed hot as she envisioned what it might be like to be worshipped by a man like Sasuke.

 _No_ , she thought. Not a man _like_ him, just him.

Just him.

Closing her eyes, she laid herself back on the bed, allowing her mind to procure him above her with his hooded orbs and unkempt hair and roguish smirk. She allowed herself to imagine the way that smirk might feel against her skin as he moved his mouth upward. _Kami._ Sakura took in a sharp breath, frozen as she imagined he had stolen it from her lips with his own. She pictured him looking down on her with a primal gaze, ready to devour her.

An ache settled itself in the region between her thighs then, pulsating with an angry, urgent need. It was insistent that she was missing something in that moment. She responded to its call, bringing her hands up to travel along her torso, skimming the tops of her breasts that peaked out from her slip in a teasing motion. Reaching to her thighs, she gathered the silk of her nightgown and pulled it above her navel. The cool air hit her suddenly, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in her abdomen.

For a few heavy breaths, Sakura worried the fabric in her hands, biting her lip as her mind's version of Sasuke settled between her legs. Her fingers inched towards the heat of her entrance, testing the edges of her desire. She skirted the rim of her opening and found herself wet at just the thought of him. How could he command such responses from her when he was not even near her? Sakura pined for his worship and yet, it was _her_ body that worshipped him. It was her body begging for _his_ attentions.

She slipped her fingers along her sex, the friction pulling her back into an arc and a soft moan from her lips. Though she knew there was no one around to hear it, she felt the heat of embarrassment flush through her at the sound. But she was not deterred. Rather, she desired to feel what else she could do with her suddenly mystical fingers. Carefully, she worked one inside and found a sweet pain as she did, stretching herself to accommodate something she had never had to before.

Her hands were slight and soft, but she wondered how it would feel if they were Sasuke's fingers instead. What if his large hands were holding her thighs as she quivered and cried while he attended to her most intimate parts with his mouth?

Sakura uttered a forlorn moan and slid her finger out. Surely she was going crazy. Was she supposed to feel this way for another person? Was it natural to feel such passion for him? Rolling over, she clamped her thighs tightly together, but it did nothing to pacify her discomfort.

Was it normal to feel so dissatisfied? Where was her sweet release? Her climax of passion? She twisted beneath her sheets.

Where was he?

* * *

"Are you lonely?" Sakura fingered the edge of the page. She had stopped mid sentence through an article on the effects of traumatic experiences to mental health, and raised her eyes to his adept gaze. Sasuke had been listening to her, giving his full attention, because for some odd reason when she read aloud to him, the subject became far more interesting. But her question had caught him off guard. She blinked rapidly, as though she had startled not only him, but herself, too. She scrambled to explain herself and elaborated, "Without your family, Sasuke-kun, are you lonely?"

He tensed under her widened gaze. He had gone so long without his family that he had forgotten what it was to not be lonely.

"I suspect you know the answer," he said slowly, carefully, "And I suspect you are only asking because you would like me to ask the same question," Sakura released the page, chewing her lip and leaned back in her chair. The flush of pink in her cheeks confirmed his suspicions. With a satisfied smirk, he said, "But I know that answer, too."

"That is enough," she tore her eyes away and stood abruptly, dropping the journal carelessly to the table. Sasuke followed suit, getting to his feet simply because she had, and then recoiled within himself for the silly action. She paced to the end of the room before rounding on him, "You say I make you miserable and yet _I_ am the one suffering at your hand as you mock me."

"No," Sasuke frowned and took a cautious step toward her. She folded her arms over her chest and turned away from him.

"I would never mock you," he swallowed harshly, attempting to navigate his language delicately without giving himself away. But when she did not turn, he stepped toward her again, "I do not wish to make you miserable."

She did not tense as she heard him approach, so he held his hand out, as though he might reach for her. He realized he wanted to. His eyes were tracing the pale curve of her neck, the nape of which was exposed beneath the intricate wrap of her hair. Gingerly, he let his fingers settle there at the base, and they were tickled by the few tendrils that had slipped free. Sasuke felt her pulse quicken, thrumming through the soft skin beneath the pads of his fingers and he heard the sharp hitch of her breath as he slowly flattened his palm against her.

He felt hot, like a flame had been ignited in his blood, but he was unsure if it was shame or remorse. . . or something else. Whatever it might be, he felt it spur him to touch more of her, to explore whatever else she bore to him. The fact that she had not flinched from him, but had instead leaned back into his hand, was only encouraging him more.

"Forgive me, then," she cleared her throat and turned back to him. Sasuke let his hand drop to his side, his gaze slipping over her, unable to focus on any one aspect of her, least of all her benign eyes, "I do enjoy your company, Sasuke-kun."

"As do I," he nodded once, in affirmation, and she smiled in response.

"Then, shall we be lonely together?" she extended her hand to him, palm up in offering, but he clenched his fists. He could not, _should not,_ touch her again. Sakura maintained the tilt of her lips, even in the face of his rejection, and led him back to the table. They resumed their seats and she picked up the book, turning to the page where they'd left off. Her gentle voice filled the room once again.


	3. Chapter 3

_They had started a fire that spread through the village, consuming the houses until it had left only rubble. It was fast approaching now; they had to evacuate before the last of their compound was destroyed. And before the horde arrived. They would come in their dark clothes and faceless masks to pillage the remains of his home; it was well known that they took no prisoners._

_“Be brave for me, Sasuke,” Mikoto stroked his cheek, tears welling in her eyes. She knew this would be his last memory of her and so she smiled, “I love you.”_

_“I don’t want to go,” his voice was weak, but his grip on her was tight._

_“I know,” she whispered, “I know, Sasuke, but you can not stay here. It isn’t safe.”_

_“Why are you staying?” Sasuke hated how meek and vulnerable he sounded._

_“We have to fight,” she released her son, “To give you t - ”_

_“Mikoto!” Fugaku ran into the room, brandishing a sword soaked with blood, eyes wild with rage, “They’re coming.”_

_“I love you both,” her voice became frantic, grip tight as she held her sons for the last time. Fugaku grabbed her arm, pulling her up from the floor, “I love you,” she gave them one last look, over her shoulder as she followed Fugaku to the desolation outside, “Don’t trust the clouded cloaks!”_

_“Sasuke, we have to go,” his brother tugged at his arm but Sasuke’s feet felt like lead. He couldn’t stop looking at his mother, agonizing over the depthless sorrow in her eyes._

_“If you get separated, do not trust the clouded cloaks!” Then, she was gone and Itachi was pulling him into the darkness._

* * *

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and watched the sun bring light into the world. He wondered how long it would take her to open the doors this time. She was becoming accustomed to having him there each morning; the minutes becoming shorter each day.

Sakura emerged from her rooms with the other guard who bid her a good day and went off to the barracks.

“Will you walk with me?” Sakura slipped her arm around the crook of Sasuke’s elbow and beamed up at him.

“Yes,” Sasuke gave her a slight nod and kept his stride with hers as they began on the melting path. He tried not to look at her or wonder why she had asked that she walk _with_ him and not just that he escort her. He kept his gaze ahead, shaking these thoughts away; he was analyzing her mannerisms far too much. What did it matter what language she used around him? She couldn’t be putting that much thought into the way she acted when she was with him.

“How did you sleep?” Sakura gazed up at him, fingers tightening in their hold on his forearm.

“Your concern is endearing,” he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully so as not to offend her, “But my answer will be the same.”

“Do you know why you are unable to sleep?”

“No.”

“Sasuke-kun, you must learn how to lie better, especially when it is to my face,” she giggled, but when he would not return her gaze, she sobered, “I know why I can not sleep.”

“Haruno-sama!”

Sakura ripped her hand from Sasuke’s arm and turned to the voice. An excited man strode down the path toward them, wearing a long Haori made of fine silks indicative of a noble heritage.

“Lee-san, good morning,” Sakura smiled sweetly, folding her hands in front of her as Lee came to stand before her. 

“How are you fairing today, Haruno-sama?” Sasuke saw Lee’s hand twitch towards hers before he noticed that she had clasped them together.

“Well, and how are you?” her words were clipped but her tone was polite.

“I am much better now that I have been graced with your beauty this day,” Lee grinned as Sakura smiled and bowed her head. Sasuke clenched his fists, but found that his need to look away was nowhere near the temptation to keep watching their interaction unfold. Who was this man? A suitor?

“You are too kind,” Sakura spared a very brief glance back at Sasuke, “Forgive me, but I was just taking a walk around the garden.”

“Yes, of course, let me escort you,” Lee held his arm out, seeming neither to notice nor care that she appeared to want to be alone. Sakura took his arm and began to walk with him.

“Thank you, Lee-san,” she kept her eyes cast down as she passed Sasuke, but he would not look away from her as he began to follow them down the trail. Lee noticed and paused briefly.

“I’m sure you are needed elsewhere. Rest assured I can take care of her,” Lee smiled, a wide grin that caused Sasuke to scowl.

“She is under my care until the Emperor decrees otherwise,” even Sasuke could hear the measure of control in his tone slipping.

“It’s all right, Uzumaki-san,” he stiffened, startled that she called him something other than ‘Sasuke-kun.’

“Haruno-sama - ,”

“Please wait for me by my quarters,” she did not smile as she gave the simple command, ducking her head again and pulling Lee further down the trail. Sasuke turned sharply on his heel and stalked back to her area of the palace. He placed himself in front of her doors, an irritation causing his skin to itch in a restless way.

Who was that man?

* * *

The hours passed with Lee adept at her side, talking at her, through her, until finally she found she could not stand it anymore.

“The sun does not shine until I have seen your face,” Lee frowned when she remained silent, her eyes attentive to a spot in the distance, “Did you know that? Haruno-sama?”

“Forgive me,” she shook her head, “I am not myself today. I think that I would like to lie down.”

“Oh, certainly. I will take you back to your rooms,” he stood from the bench and extended his hand. She took it and rose slowly, feigning difficulty in the hopes that she could pass off her disinterest as sickness.

“Thank you, but I can manage. I have taken enough of your time today,” she bowed her head and started on her way back before he could stop her. As she rounded the lake, she saw her doors come in to view, and standing in front of them, dutifully, was Sasuke. She couldn’t contain the smile that spread as she came upon him, “It is too cold out here, come inside.”

He kept silent, but followed her into her sitting room. She took off her gloves and dropped them on the table by the window. With nimble fingers, Sakura pulled at the decorative pins holding her bun together, causing her hair to spiral down her back in waves. It was the first time Sasuke had seen her hair loose and he had an unwarranted impulse to run his fingers through it. Perhaps as he kissed her. Every muscle in his body became terse as the thought passed through him. No, that was wrong. How could he think that?

“Sasuke-kun, are you all right?” Sakura strode toward him and placed a hand on his bicep. He almost flinched from her touch.

“Who is that man?” he bit his tongue as soon as the words flew from his mouth. It was not his place to ask, Sakura’s gaze softened, the edges of her lips wilting.

“He is the son of a nobleman in my father’s company. Heis a potential suitor,” he felt her finger the cotton material of his shirt before she dropped her hand and turned away, “Lee-san is sweet, but - ,” Sakura stopped and shook her head. Sasuke was aching to hear the stipulation that inevitably followed her compliment of Lee, “Well, it matters not.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he felt suddenly quite out of place in her large room with her fine things, standing in her startling presence. She smiled and looked back at him, rosy hair contrasting with her sparkling jade eyes.

“I am enjoying myself now.”

Sasuke smirked and waited for her to take her seat by the window before he resumed his. She picked up the book that lay there, finding the page they had marked yesterday and resumed her place. She read aloud to him of the boundless possibilities of transferable diseases when surgeons were improper with hygiene as they worked. He listened to every word, noticing the little inflections she put on certain syllables and the way her lips curved to accommodate different letters. A man in China had died of gangrene after visiting a surgeon with rusty tools. Meanwhile, a woman in Russia had to have her leg amputated after receiving a bacterial infection post surgery. She read the articles as though they were the most fascinating passages her eyes had ever graced.

With one hand on the book, the other twisted her pink locks around and pulled them over her shoulder, exposing the pale juncture of her neck. She ran her fingers along the curve in concise circles and seemed not to notice that she was even doing so. But Sasuke could not tear his eyes away now. He was imagining how her skin would feel if those were his fingers outlining simple designs. What would she do if he were to reach out and touch her now?

“Sasuke-kun, are you paying attention?” Sakura set the book down between them as a smile quirked her lips.

“I am.”

“You are staring.”

“At what?”

“At me,” she set her chin on the back of her hand.

“Would you prefer that I look elsewhere?” he lifted his brows to emphasize his question.

“No,” she laughed lightly, eyes boring in to his, “I am accustomed to it from Lee-san, from many admirers, but not - ,” Sakura trailed off when she saw the shadow that fell over Sasuke’s face. She cleared her throat, “Have you ever - Have you ever been in love?”

“No.”

“I have not yet had the pleasure,” she paused, thinking, then laughed “I wonder if I will even be able to recognize it when it happens.”

“When?”

“Do you not think love inevitable?”

“I do not know.”

“I would like to think that I will love somebody one day,” she eyed him speculatively, “Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I suppose,” he looked away from the intensity of her gaze, from the unspoken questions burning behind her eyes, “Do you think anybody capable of love?”

“Yes,” she said softly, “I do.”

“Do you think these suitors love you?”

“They certainly speak as if they do,” she began to trace the words in her book with her finger idly, “It might be that they have fooled themselves into thinking they do.”

“So you think that they do not?”

“They do not know me, Sasuke-kun,” as he looked back at her, she dropped her eyes to her hands, “And how can you love a person you do not know?”

Sasuke frowned; there was truth to her words. Did they simply take her at face value, knowing only her heritage and claim their feelings to be love? She deserved better. She deserved to find love someday and to have it in turn, he thought. He was utterly unconvinced it would be with Lee. The man knew how to speak to her, but it sounded as though many of her suitors did - perhaps that is why she did not feel special. Did all of her suitors speak the same way to her, utter the same sweet nothings? It was no wonder she found herself blind to what love, real love, looked like.

But Sasuke knew. He would recognize it in a second, because his parents had it. And he knew it was beautiful.

“Sasuke-kun,” her voice wavered and he snapped out of his thoughts as he saw her lip quiver, “I wish to talk about something else.”

“Have I made you upset?”

“No, not you,” she shook her head and stood from the table. Sasuke felt himself pulled to his feet, compelled to follow her across the room as she paced.

“What troubles you?” he reached his hand out, palm open to receive hers, maybe to lead her back to the table - he wasn’t sure why he had offered himself to her. She glanced at his fingers, outstretched and turned in to him, winding her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his chest. Sasuke tensed under her touch, hands falling limp at his sides, unable to move.

“I am tired of this life,” she whispered, lips moving against his shirt, “I want to be free.”

“Freedom is a luxury,” Sasuke shifted slightly, attempting not to disturb her position, “Even I can not afford it.”

Sakura tightened her grip on him and he felt a compulsion to lift his arms then, encircling them around her middle. He found the motion so natural and forgot to ask himself if the action was appropriate; he was concerned only with her comfort. His hand slid up her back, finding the tendrils of her wild hair and slipping between them. She did not protest and, in fact, leaned into his bold touch.

“Do I seem silly?” she murmured as he began to stroke her hair, “Like a child unappreciative of privilege?”

“No,” she looked up to him, searching his eyes, “It is not silly to want a better life. It is greedy to want what you do not have and what you already possess.”

“And I can not have one without giving up the other,” she mused, fingers running up his back in a way that caused him to shiver as she pulled herself closer still. He felt suddenly vulnerable in her arms, reliant upon her touch and responsive to her movements. It terrified him to think that another person could hold such sway over him. That powerlessness he always felt in his dreams, in his memories, however, was so vastly different to what he felt now. He could not conjure a reason good enough to support why he just _knew_ that Sakura would never use that vulnerability against him. She was not malicious, she was as beautiful in her personage as in her physicality. And he found that terrifying, too.

A knock sounded at the front of her chambers and they sprang apart, Sasuke rushing to answer the door. The sun was beginning to set behind the kitchen maid who hurried in with Sakura’s dinner. The woman set the platter on the table, her footsteps and movements the only din in the thick air. He would need to leave soon, he thought as he shut the door behind the server. Another guard would come to relieve him shortly; he would have to depart from her, until tomorrow.

“Sasuke-kun?” Sakura prompted him, seating herself at the table and gesturing to his spot. It had become a normality that he ate with her now. He no longer dined with his fellow soldiers, and he no longer cared to. He found much better company in her. But tonight, he thought, it might be best that he not.

“I think that I should wait outside, until my shift has ended,” he bowed his head to her and she bristled at the stiff action. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but nodded instead.

“Very well. Good night, Sasuke-kun,” she took up her utensils and began to eat, diverting her gaze from him.

“Good night, Sakura,” he removed himself from her rooms, closing the door behind him, and stepped into the crisp air. Snow had begun to fall once more, blanketing the earth freshly, covering the impurities and imprints of the day.

* * *

_They marched through the smoke, a mass of black and swirling red clouds, towards the wreckage of his village. He knew his parents were still there, somewhere, defending the remnants of their once revered clan._

**Be brave for me. I love you.**

_“Don’t look, Sasuke. Just keep running.”_

_He didn’t want to run anymore. He was tired of running through this dark forest while the last embers of his village burned into nothing behind him. He kept his eyes ahead, but all he could see was black. The trees shrouded them in darkness, hiding them even from the light of the moon. He did not know where they were headed, but he did not want to go. How could he leave his life behind? He wrenched his arm free from Itachi’s hold._

_“I want to go back!” despite his words, Sasuke did not move._

_“We can not go back to the village, Sasuke,” Itachi’s voice was sharp, a tone he had never taken with him before, “I have to keep you safe from them.”_

_“I want to go back to mother!”_

_The crunch of twigs beneath heavy feet reached them and Itachi yanked Sasuke forward again. Frightened by the cry of the warriors running after them, Sasuke kept silent and followed his brother. Soon, he saw a shaft of light at the edge of the forest and knew where they were going. The gates of Konoha Village, towering and menacing in stature came in to view. Standing in wait at the entrance were the Uzumakis aside a modest horse-drawn caravan loaded with supplies._

_“Where are we going?” Sasuke asked, clutching his brother tightly as they approached them._

_“I don’t know,” Itachi admitted, a touch of sorrow marring his words. They stopped before Minato and Kushina who held a mixture of trepidation and relief in their gazes, “Where is Naruto?”_

_“Asleep, inside,” Minato gestured to the caravan._

_“You have my deepest gratitude for this,” Itachi bowed his head before kneeling in front of Sasuke, “Be brave for me, okay?”_

_“Are you coming with me?” his voice trembled._

_“Next time,” Itachi poked his forehead affectionately._

_“Will you find me?”_

_Itachi faltered, but shook his head._

_“I can not know where you are,” Itachi hugged Sasuke tightly, “I have to keep you safe.”_

_“I don’t want you to go,” Sasuke whimpered, tears stinging his eyes as he clutched his brother.  
“I have to,” Itachi released him quickly, shooting to his feet as the call of the horde became louder._

_“You need to leave now,” Minato said with urgency._

_Kushina pulled something from one of the packs on the caravan. She handed the bundle of cloth to Itachi._

_“Wear this, it will keep you safe,” she pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek, “We will never stop protecting him.”_

_“Thank you,” Itachi released her and fumbled with the piece of clothing, draping it over his shoulders. It was of fine black silk and decorated with swirling red clouds._

**Do not trust the clouded cloaks.**

_“Keep off the paths, you know this forest better than they,” Minato clasped a hand on Itachi’s shoulder and he nodded._

_“Be brave for me, Sasuke,” Itachi repeated, love and fear evident in his eyes, before he lifted the cloak over his head. His face became shrouded in the shadow of his hood._

_“I want to go with you,” Sasuke stepped forward, but Minato caught him, holding him back. Itachi faltered, then took Sasuke and lifted him into the caravan. He seated him on the bench opposite the one Naruto occupied, curled up in a peaceful sleep._

_“Not today,” Itachi spoke softly and let Kushina slide in beside Sasuke before shutting the door of the carriage. At the edge of the forest the lights of torches cut through the darkness._

_“You have to go! Now!” Minato cried, scrambling to the front of the caravan to spur the horses forward. Itachi turned and ran up the side of the forest, disappearing into the thrush of trees. Sasuke called after him, but found he was drowned out by the stomp of hooves as the caravan lurched forward and the voices of the enemy as they came closer. Kushina pulled Sasuke away from the window and shoved the curtain down over the opening, plunging them in to darkness. Though, she could not silence the horde as she had so snuffed out his sight; their cries for blood and battle followed them for a time until, eventually, the horses were able to pull them a safe distance ahead._


	4. Chapter 4

"I would like to apologize for my actions yesterday," she had hardly spoken a word to him all morning until after they had lunched. She seemed content to sit in silence and read not to him, but quietly instead. It upset him to not be able to hear her voice, but he could not bring himself to tell her that.

"Apologize?" Sasuke asked, befuddled.

"Yes," she was looking to the window at the blizzard that raged outside, "It was inappropriate of me to say those things to you."

Was she apologizing because she had said them to a lowly guard?

"I did not think it inappropriate," he admitted. She looked surprised, her widened eyes snapping to his.

"No?" she asked and he shook his head. She paused for a breath, contemplating her next words, "I just - I do not wish to burden you."

"You are not a burden," he stalled himself, not wanting to continue, fearful of what he might say to assuage her thoughts.

"Thank you, Sasuke-kun. I suppose I feel that I can confide in you and not have to worry of judgement or ridicule," she began to play with her hair again, this time plaiting it off to the side. He noticed she did it at times when she was deep in thought or concentration, just as she did when she had read to him, "I am not accustomed to a welcoming ear. It is unusual for me to speak so freely."

"And yet you do it so well," Sasuke smirked, attempting to lighten the mood. Sakura huffed and grinned.

"You know," she spoke gingerly, clutching her braid in secured fingers, "You do not have to hide your thoughts from me, either. I would pose no judgement to you."

"Do you think I hide things from you?" He was playing coy, hoping to make light of the conversation. He knew she was aware he was hiding from her. He was always hiding, the only other option being to run. But he was tired of running.

"Don't belittle me Sasuke-kun," she joked, "You insult my intelligence."

"My apologies," he smirked. 

"Very well, I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you," she simpered. For a moment, she considered him, cocking her head to the side as she thought, "Do you like me, Sasuke-kun?" He felt himself go pale. Had he been that obvious? "What I mean to say is: do you enjoy being in my company?"

"Yes," he swallowed harshly and folded his hands in his lap.

"Good, I do not wish to keep you against your will, but I find myself wanting to be near you," she flushed at her own words and undid the tendrils of her braid, only to start over immediately. How could she say these things without consequence? He felt an urge to draw out her odd mannerisms and place them on the table between them.

"Is that why you came to see me fight?"

"I was admiring my garden," she said with mock defensiveness.

"Of course. I imagine it's lovely when everything is dead and white," he teased. 

"And if I did come to watch you?" she asked after a moment of silence, allowing her candor to show through.

“Then, I hope I did not bore you," he answered simply. She smiled and shook her head, lashes hovering low over her eyes. 

“Not for a moment," her voice was quiet, words melting into the air around them. 

* * *

She had to know that he was attuned to her activities and the attention she gave him, but she never spoke a word of it. She continued to skirt the truth, teasing him, flirting he thought sometimes with the notion that she might harbor feelings for him. It was driving him mad. He didn't understand why he wanted to be around her, why he acquiesced to her wishes of spending time together. If he thought about it too much it started to make sense and he couldn't have that. If he felt so strongly toward her without trying, he shuddered to imagine what it might be like if he actually gave life to his desires.

Sasuke had just sat down on his bed, still dressed in uniform, when an unfamiliar guard came up to him, brandishing a sealed letter.

“This arrived earlier with us on the supply caravan, from your brother,” he said.

Sasuke took the letter and tore the wax seal, unfolding the stiff parchment with haste; it had been months since Naruto had written.

_Sasuke,_

_I hope this finds you well, or at least better than we are faring out here.; this winter seems to be more harsh than the last. I am sorry I have not written you sooner, but we fell under attack and were forced to move camp. I am fine, but we lost many good men. Our numbers have continued to dwindle and I fear that we have already lost this war. The Akatsuki seem to have an army with no end. Somehow, they have eyes everywhere and I've begun to suspect they have infiltrated our masses. I can not say more, not in a letter. I have urged the Emperor in my report to consider a deal with the Hokage; with his forces we may have a chance against the Akatsuki. Mother and Father are safe still. I can not say where they’ve gone, but they are safe with Jiraiya. They send their love to you, as do I. My hope is that I will be home by this time next year, if the Emperor is able to come to an agreement with the Hokage. Until then,_

_Naruto_

Sasuke frowned and crumpled the letter. He should be at Naruto’s side, fighting this war, defending the little family he had left. But how could Naruto consider working with the man who had undermined his father? Frustrated, Sasuke pulled his boots back on and walked outside. The garden was bathed in moonlight, the clouds from earlier having cleared away. The snow was still fresh, hardly a footprint marring the path in front of him.

He should be there.

_Do not trust the clouded cloaks._

Sasuke shook his head, willing the thoughts away. If he tried to sleep tonight, he would be greeted only with nightmares. He paused in his steps, finding himself beside Sakura’s window to her sitting area. A candle burned on the table, but she stood on the other side of the room, by the fire. He could see the guard standing beside her. She looked up suddenly, catching him at the window and he froze. A slight blush crept infuriatingly into his cheeks and he ducked his head, continuing on the trail. How embarrassing, he thought, to be seen like that.

“Sasuke-kun!” Sakura called and ran up to him, clutching her robe tight to her body.

“Forgive me, I was - ,” he began, but she silenced him.

“I can not sleep, either,” the wind whipped her long tresses up, curling them through the air. Sakura shook them out of her face, tucking a few strands behind her ears, “Walk with me?”

“Of course,” Sasuke said softly, a sense of relief for her company overcoming him. He bent his arm and she slid her hand through, resting it on his forearm as they began walking.

“Are you all right, Sasuke-kun? Has something bothered you tonight?” she looked up at him with a delicate frown and an empathetic gaze. He considered her for a long moment, weighing the options of confiding in her or shutting her out completely. There was no denying that Naruto’s letter had left a weight on his chest. The thought of losing another brother. . . It hit him harder than he cared to admit.

“I fear for Naruto’s life,” he took a deep breath, the cold air shooting through him. Sakura lowered her eyes to the ground and lifted her other hand to clasp his arm. Her fingers stroked soft patterns into the cloth of his shirt and he found the motions rather soothing.

“My father has told me of the desolation this war has brought,” she leaned into him softly, head resting against his bicep, “He taught me of the Uchiha’s betrayal when I was young, and how they perished at the hands of the Akatsuki. Of course, I have known the Uchiha name for longer than I can remember. Even so, it was terrible to lose such a strong clan. My father was distraught when Minato-san lost control of Konoha, too, but I’m sure you knew that,” Sasuke could only nod, his gaze attentive to anything but her. This conversation was hitting too close to home for his liking, “I am happy you did not perish the night they attacked Konoha.”

“And what about the families lost that night?” he could not keep the malice out of his voice.

“It was unfortunate,” she pulled away to look at him properly, though she kept a firm grip on his arm. Her brows furrowed as she saw a lethal rage present in his dark orbs, “I am sure you lost people you loved in the village, and for that I am deeply saddened, but I am merely stating that I am happy you were not one of them. I am happy that I can stand here and talk with you, that I am not living in ignorance of your existence.”

He would not look at her and so she stopped them in her tracks and yanked his chin to face her with a firm grip. Her eyes were gratuitous as they searched his, though he wasn’t sure what it was she looked for. With a huff she released him and tore down the path until she reached her bench by the willow tree. She did not sit as she usually did. Instead, she ducked under the frozen branches. Sasuke watched the leaves sway softly in the wind, catching slight glances of her kimono when they parted.

He followed her tracks and lifted the branches, stepping under the tree’s coverage. There was hardly a shaft of light brightening their small space. He could only see so far in front of him, but he could see that Sakura had her back to him.

“I do not understand you, Sasuke-kun,” she murmured.

“Why should you want to?” he failed to contain the harshness in his words.

“Simply because I do,” she answered calmly, “Is that so wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Then so be it,” she snapped.

“Sakura,” he put his arm on her shoulder and urged her to face him. She did so with great reluctance, casting her eyes to the leaves around them, “I do not understand _you_. Why are you so attentive to me?”

“Does it bother you?” Sasuke faltered. Of course it did, and at the same time he was utterly content to be under her gaze, “Is it so terrible that I wish to know more of you?”

“Yes,” the word came out in a defeated exhale. Rather than flinch from him, Sakura stepped closer, lifting her eyes to his. She placed a naked hand on the trunk of the tree, almost as if to steady herself as she leaned forward. She stopped just short of resting against him.

"A flower's beauty is measured only in the admiration it receives," she spoke low, fingers stroking the damp bark, "Would you agree?"

"Not at all," Sasuke was becoming more accustomed to responding to her passing thoughts, but even then he was perplexed by her change in subject. He wanted to look away from the intensity of her gaze, but she captivated him in that moment, "That implies that the flower did not have any beauty to begin with."

"I think that the flower had beauty," she hesitated and took a deep breath before continuing, "But the flower did not care for it, until it was shown that admiration."

"Any admiration?" Sasuke countered, the prickle of anticipation beginning at the nape of his neck.

"Admiration counts for naught unless the person receiving it so admires the person giving it," her eyes were probing, daring him silently and begging him in her words. Fine, he thought, he was tired of this game.

"And if I recognized your beauty?" he questioned her bluntly.

"Recognized it? Or admired it?" Sakura swallowed harshly; she had to know she wasn't the only soul tormented by this gnawing desire between them.

"You are beautiful, you know this," Sasuke spoke curtly, but exasperation was evident in his words, "You do not need to hear it yet again when they still sing of your beauty in foreign lands. Why should I tell you something that your suitors remind you of at every encounter?”

"Admiration counts for naught - "

"I heard you," Sasuke gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. Sakura did not shrink from his words. In fact, she had to hide the smile that threatened to break over her lips as she caught the tremor in his stance and the tempest raging in his eyes. She could see his desire then, his want, and felt an urge to explore it.

"I admire you," she stepped toward him again carefully, as one might approach a caged beast. She could see the strain in his features as her frigid hand came up against his cheek. When she stood right up to him, she found she had to raise herself slightly so that they became level with each other. With an angle, she pressed her lips against his. As though she had compelled him, his arms ensnared her waist and his tongue sought entrance. He pushed her back against the tree and she gripped his shoulders tightly, giving in, parting her lips to feel his tongue against hers. He responded in earnest, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth where he nipped it delicately. A moan was lost on her breath, caught between their lips but they did not stop.

She was flush against the trunk of the tree and still he pushed his body against hers, eager for her warmth and the taste of her lips. Her hands ran along his back and wound their way through his hair, crushing his mouth against hers with bruising force. But she was lost in him, too lost to care, and he was all too happy to drown within her. They took small breaths through parted lips, never separate for more than a moment and let the seconds pass to minutes. Time stretched around them but could not penetrate the space they shared. They were reckless with each other, biting and sucking and moaning when they brushed or pressed just so against each other.

“Sasuke-kun,” her lips slipped from his and she struggled to find the space to pull away with Sasuke in front of her and the tree behind her. He released her and planted his hands on the icy bark, breathing heavily.

“I do admire you,” he closed his eyes, head shaking, “Of course I do.”

Sakura felt her heart skip, even though he had proven the sentiment without having to speak the words. She circled her arms around his neck, thumb stroking the line of his jaw, then moved up to pet his lips.

“I have been unable to stop thinking of you," he opened his eyes to meet hers. The bark began to bite into his skin as he pressed his hands more harshly against it, "I am restless at night because I dream of your mouth and your touch - ," Sasuke's breath hitched in his throat. Her soft voice was heavily laden with an unquenched lust, "I dream about you pleasuring me in the most obscene ways - I - ,”

“Sakura,” he cut off the stream of unfiltered confessions spilling from her lips. It was more than he could take. She had thought of him in that way? How far did she think this could go? How had he let it get this far? “We can not.”

"Then, escort me to my chambers," her voice was quiet but burdened with desire, fingers stroking his cheeks. 

“I do not think that would be wise,” he gripped her wrists and took her hands away. Her touch was burning against his skin, searing passion into his body.

“No, not wise,” he could hear the humor in her voice, “Do you think you won’t be able to control yourself if we are alone?”

Sasuke swallowed sharply. How could she ask him that? He knew the answer. Of course he wouldn’t, couldn’t. She was irresistible to him. And now that he had had a taste. . .

“No,” he choked out.

“Then I implore you not to,” she lost all frivolity, speaking low and sincere, “Kiss me again.”

He met her imploring gaze once more and felt a spark shoot up his spine at the fire that lay in her eyes. She yearned for him, perhaps as much as he did for her. Her fingers twitched like she was aching as much as he was for just one more touch. He was begging for it, ready to fight for another moment with her.

"I can't," he took a shuddering breath, "it isn't right."

"I don’t care," she could barely be heard over the wind that blew through the trees, "I want more."

"That is a dangerous request," his voice was hoarse now, strained by the wilting force of his will. She curled her fingers around the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss, moving her lips over his, while he stood rigid against her. She paused, whispering against him,

"I know."

And her lips were on his again, soft like satin and bruising like steel. He took hold of her hips, pinning Sakura against him once more. He didn't want to let her go, couldn't imagine it now that she was pressed so tightly against him. He felt every curve and angle of her body fitted with his, finding that they connected in the most peculiar ways. The language of her form spoke with his, whispering low that this was right, this was how it was meant to feel. 

Before he could ask himself what 'it' was, she pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open, but she ducked her gaze and slipped out from under the willow tree. Sasuke was frozen, the skin of his lips buzzing with her memory. He could still smell her in the crisp air and if he closed his eyes, he could reach out and touch her; she was so much more tangible now.

“Sasuke-kun?” he was startled out of his sweet reverie by her call. He pulled back the draped leaves to see her. There was not a soul around them, and yet she shined like a beacon. At least, to him she did. She was waiting for him and how could he possibly resist?

"I will escort you to your rooms," he didn't add that he might stay with her, that he wanted to stay with her. It was foolish to entertain the thought that they might give life to their carnal desires, but that is where his mind began to wander. He had felt the outlines of her body against him and it had caused a reaction not entirely unpleasant in his trousers. He hoped she either had not noticed or, better yet, had not minded. Sakura took his hand, linking their fingers, and he looked around nervously, even though it was clear they had the path to themselves.

“I was afraid you would not see me in a favorable light,” she said faintly, “Or that you might see me as everyone else did.”

“You did surpass my expectations,” he admitted, voice subdued.

“As did you,” she smiled and stopped him on the snowy path. Gingerly, she reached her hand up to spread over his heart, as she’d done before, “But I sense that there is still much that you conceal from the rest of the world, and from me. I do not want to see you as everyone else does. I wish to know you as intimately as you know yourself,” she took a small breath and fisted his shirt in her hand, “Perhaps, one day, even better than you do.”

He clutched her hand, thumb stroking her tightened fingers. It was a charming sentiment; her words triggered an aspiration to make that diegesis a reality. But how could they? A flurry of negations swirled in his mind, justifying his requirement for a lifetime of solitude. Perhaps not solitude, he thought, but with her - He could see no possible future for them, could see no scenario where they would be happy in their lives. If he were still of noble lineage, maybe, but what was the use of spending time thinking on things that _could_ have been?

“That is not realistic,” he pulled her hand away, adopting a somber tone as he released her.

“I will not ask forgiveness for hoping,” she bit the inside of her cheek and looked away, folding her arms over her chest.

“I do not want you to,” he softened, but she would not spare him a glance, “I simply wish that you would see the impossibility of what you ask for.”

“I see no impossibilities,” she snapped, gathering her skirt in her hands, “I see only you and me, and the walls you invariably put between us.”

She stormed down the length of the trail, returning to her rooms where he watched her reenter and promptly slam the door shut. He clenched his hands to fists and cursed to the frigid air. But, he supposed it was better this way; better that they do not become attached, better that they find out there is no hope for them now, better that they do not fall in love. As soon as he thought the word, his heart squeezed painfully tight in his chest; that did not feel better.

Sasuke started back on the trail, stopping at her bench. He shoved the snow to the ground and sat down, folding his hands in his lap. He looked out at her world, at the frozen lake, at the bare branches, and then to the willow tree; the only thing still teeming with life. He could see them there, hidden beneath the leaves and under cover of darkness exploring the tender passions they had only just discovered. Eager lips and possessive hands painted their picture of desire; a flame licking away the edges of his sanity. Sasuke watched the breeze stir the overhanging leaves and his projection disappeared. He turned his gaze to her chambers where a soft glow still emanated and wondered how long it would take her to open the doors come morning.


	5. Chapter 5

She lay on her bed, atop her sheets for hours that night, waiting for the passion in her heart and the ache at her core to subside. She waited for the memory of his touch to cease plaguing her, but it lingered stubbornly, causing her heart to caper each and every time she felt the ghost of his lips on hers. How could he show her such ravishing desire, then deny her that same pleasure the next moment? She understood his reasoning, but she could not bring herself to agree with it. Sakura had hurt more than she could have imagined just from the subjugation to his rejection.

She felt an amiable gratification when she interacted with him. He made her laugh, smile, and find enjoyment in activities that had previously become dull. But to hold his attention in such a way and to feel the force of his fondness for her, it was incomparable.

She had been granted the experience of reciprocation from a man she truly wanted and she found that there was little to nothing she would trade that for.

He had such hunger in his eyes when he looked at her, a coveting gaze that held no apology nor want for recompense. He was concerned only with the connection they shared, seeking to discover the borders of it, were there any. She felt so empty now, helpless to her need for Sasuke, and she wished he filled more than just her bed then.

While sex was not a common subject for her, she had done her research thanks to her collections of medical journals. She knew of the concept of virginity, and was well aware that in her social standing it was a requirement. The nobleman she married would expect a demure, chaste wife. Yet, she knew there were ways around that, and she was all too eager to act out her fantasies of Sasuke. But, informative as they were, her books had failed to describe how relentless desire was, how it would gnaw at her heart and pulsate at her cunt.

Sakura had not anticipated her body becoming a slave to passion, but that was how she felt; a knot of nerves coiled in suspense of relief. If she just heard her name on his lips one more time or felt his strong, sure hands on her body again, Sakura was certain she would come undone.

She gave a disparaged moan before letting her fingers travel beneath her robe. She petted her hidden nub, swollen with neglect, and began to work in small circles. Aware of the guard keeping watch in the other room, she bit her lip to silence herself.

She was tentative with her touch, allowing the pleasure to build slowly, imagining that Sasuke would coax her desire out languidly, despite his need for her. A cry of want became lodged in her throat. She had never felt such lascivious compulsions before, had never been so compelled by the thought of another person. Her other hand ran along the length of her slip and palmed her breast through the material. She let out a soft squeak and squeezed her pliant flesh harder, trying to emulate Sasuke’s zeal. Her fingers quickened at her amenable clit, arousal heightening her pleasure and pleasure drowning her in scorching bliss. She wanted it to last, Kami, she wanted it to last. . .

Sakura tore her fingers away as her orgasm ripped through her. Her back arced sharply off her bed, her limbs shook from the strain of erotic indulgence, and still the fire in her heart burned. His striking gaze and sculpted face sat at the forefront of her mind, taunting her desire and her quest for completion. It was useless without him.

Sakura panted heavily, watching the darkness that spiraled over her ceiling. She wanted him. If there was a capacity to her desire, she knew he would be the one to find it; it had to be him. And when he found it, she wanted to witness that hunger in his eyes as he made her come.

* * *

Sakura did not open the doors for him the next morning, nor the morning after that. Her ladies in waiting filtered in and out of her rooms at various times. He would hear her laughter resonate through her chambers and ached to see the smile she presumably wore as she did, but he would not enter unless she invited him in.

She must be irate with him, he thought, but she needed to understand that he was only looking out for her wellbeing. It was impossible for them to be together without suffering repercussions for it. He doubted very highly that she felt so strongly for him that it assuaged all fears of consequence. Still, he wished he was in her sitting room with her, at her table, exchanging lighthearted quips and thoughtful sentiments. His wishes were all that kept him warm as he stood, without fail, in front of her doors.

* * *

Then, one afternoon she emerged with her envoy, dressed in a startlingly dark blue, floral patterned kimono, almost black in hue as though she were in mourning, with her hair twisted into a large bun that sat atop her head. Jewels hung from her tendrils and decorated her neck most ostensibly. He wondered what the occasion was, for he had never seen her put forth such an effort in her wardrobe. Undeniably, she was breathtaking, but his mind continued to wander back to the other night when she had stood on the frozen path with him, wind courting her hair as it pleased and not a jewel in sight fighting for attention against her. She had walked with him in only a silk robe and she was still the most beautiful being his gaze had ever been graced with.

Sakura did not spare him a single glance as she and her ladies wound down the trail of her gardens, but he knew it was his duty to follow her and he was thankful that he had to obey it. He trekked behind them at a safe distance, until he saw a man approach Sakura. Her ladies turned and giggled to each other, trading whispers. He was too far to hear the words exchanged, but Sakura nodded and took his arm. Her ladies remained behind, talking excitedly within their group. A few had looked to Sasuke, wondering if he would impose on Sakura and her courtier with his looming presence.

With a scrutinizing gaze, Sasuke traced her movements and the steps she took. Sakura was careful in her stride, floating almost, and straightening her posture as she looked up at the man. She smiled at something he said and nodded avidly. The man led her over to the bench by the willow tree, the snow having melted for that day, and sat beside her. He began to talk excitedly while Sakura nodded and listened, all the while never releasing his grasp on her hands.

This man was not Lee-san, but Sasuke failed to see the difference. He noted the way the man seemed to fawn over Sakura, gesturing to her ornate hair or simply grinning boyishly when she graced him with her laughter. Sasuke wondered, for just a moment, if he had ever looked at Sakura that way, as if she were a master with a bone and he a dog. How pathetic, he thought as he watched the scene play out. Still, this dog had a better stance of achieving something Sasuke never could.

Scowling, unable to turn away and defenseless against the pain that cracked his heart, Sasuke simply observed.

“Uzumaki-san,” a soldier approached him, blocking his view of Sakura and her new suitor, “The Emperor requests your presence.”

Sasuke nodded and proceeded to the Emperor’s council room, grateful for a distraction, but unaware that Sakura followed his movements diligently.

* * *

“I have written a poem for you, Haruno-sama.”

“Hibiki-san, how sweet,” Sakura wished she could conjure a blush at will, but she had been gifted so many confessions of adoration that it failed to stir even a soft flutter of her heart. But she knew who could, and that man was currently walking away from her. She had no idea where he was going, he was meant to be looking after her, watching her every move, and drooling over her appearance like this man was.

“May I read it to you?” there was a timidity to his voice as he pulled the paper from his pocket.

“Of course,” she forced her eyes back to him. She didn’t want to hear another poem. She wanted to hear Sasuke whisper against her lips that he admired her and she wanted to feel his sturdy arms envelope her, hands slipping along her body as if she were his lifeline. Sakura twisted the fabric of her kimono in her hands as Hibiki’s voice faded into static beside her.

* * *

“Uzumaki-san, I am sure Naruto-san has informed you of the dire situation we face at the battlefront,” Emperor Kizashi paced around the table at the center of the empty room, eyes fixed on a map of dissected territories that lay there, “Each red pin represents another village lost to the Akatsuki,” red covered the majority of the north, “The white represents the Hokage’s territories,” white spread through the western region, “We are isolated here, in the blue.”

Kizashi’s hand slammed down in the middle of the southern provinces where the smallest collection of pins resided. Sasuke kept his silence, standing firm in his stature. With a heavy sigh, Kizashi’s hand clenched to a fist and he bowed his head.

“Our militia is spread thin, but I must find some way to supply them with more troops. I am not comfortable with trusting the Hokage. Not yet,” Kizashi lifted his weary eyes, but Sasuke felt relief at his admission, “I know Naruto-san is correct in thinking there are spies among us. For that reason, I need you to remain behind. I know you had requested to be in Naruto-san’s ranks, but I am unsure of who I can trust here. I fear I have only you and Hatake-san now,” a deep frown had etched itself on Kizashi’s face and Sasuke felt that, remarkably, it reflected his own bitter disappointment. How could he stay at the palace, restless, while Naruto fought a losing battle? “I suspect another attack may come sooner than we think, and much closer to home, as well.”

“Sir?”

Kizashi paused in his thoughts, lost in the dissension of his strife.

“If we indeed are infested with spies from the Akatsuki, then I suspect their next target will be here, at the palace,” the defeat in his voice was prominent and it sent a devastating chill down Sasuke’s spine. Silence stretched through the cavernous room, weighted with the threat of war now at their doorstep, “Keep my daughter safe. Please,” Kizashi’s hand massaged the furrow of his brow, eyes closed, “Please, that is all that I ask. Just keep her safe.”

Sasuke nodded brusquely, tightening his fists. So he was to remain there, useless as ever, while he lost another brother to the Akatsuki. Anger, fury, hatred, and encompassing despair swallowed Sasuke; he was falling into the darkness again, set adrift in its endless waters.

“Very well,” he bowed low, but awaited Kizashi’s dismissal before exiting the room.

* * *

A shadow loomed over Sasuke as he resumed his post in the gardens, and Sakura could see it as soon as she spotted him. Her knuckles were white with how tightly she gripped her skirt and she could not shake the buzzing in her ears. Sasuke’s mind was miles away, with Naruto and his army on the battlefield, but Hibiki was focused on the woman in front of him.

“Might I be able to see you tomorrow?” Hibiki asked, and Sakura realized the static was talking to her.

“Perhaps,” she spoke passively, unflinching from Sasuke’s vacant gaze. He was looking through her, unaware of her, as something played out in his mind, “Excuse me.”

She stood abruptly from her bench and strode past her ladies who watched her with curiosity, wondering if they should follow in her harried footsteps.

“Meet me in my rooms, please,” she whispered, head lowered as she swept by Sasuke. For a moment he had been so captivated in his thoughts that he assumed he had not properly heard her, until he looked up and caught the glance she threw over her shoulder. He stepped into a measured stride, waiting for the inspecting gazes of her ladies and her suitor to drop in disinterest, and slipped through her doors.

She was on him in a second, pressing him into a corner of the room that the light of the window could not touch. Her lips attacked his to which he responded with fervor, before he seemed to catch himself.

“Sakura,” he said breathlessly, pushing her back, yet still attempting to keep her in his grasp, hands settling at her slight wrists.

“What is wrong?” her eyes were wide with a fierce trepidation that led Sasuke to believe she was not inquiring about his refusal to kiss her. She pulled her arms free to link them around his neck. Her chest pressed against his and he felt his breath lodge in his throat.

“It is unimportant,” he shook his head and fought the urge to clasp his hands at her delicate waist, accentuated by the obi she wore.

“Sasuke-kun, please tell me if something is wrong,” she stroked his cheek, but he caught her hand before she could further entice him with her caress.

“What would it matter?” he frowned, “You will continue to bask in the attention from the many men who wait for you hand and foot.”

Sakura fell silent at that, receding from him, looking every bit ashamed for her behavior, but it didn’t make him feel better. He felt worse when he saw the corners of her lips turn down.

“I do not mean - ,”

“No, you are correct,” she whispered, “I only wished to make you jealous, so that you might feel spurned as I did. And I did so only because I knew you would have to watch. It was petty of me, especially as you are clearly tormented,” her bright, clear eyes, halted the words at his lips, “If you do not want to tell me what troubles you, I suppose I can do no more,” What did she mean? “If you do not carry feelings for me, then please be plain with me. I would rather suffer the pain of honesty, than be pining for affections that are not truly there.”

Sasuke heaved a burdened sigh, gaze razing her from head to toe, examining the utter fragility of her façade. He imagined that all it would take would be to remove an ornament from her hair, or to unravel the obi, and she would crumble before him, susceptive to the depth of her compassion.

“You know I can not lie to you,” he inched towards Sakura, apprehensive to touch her, “I am no good at it. I am jealous of the men who may court you openly and flaunt their affections for you. It is something I will never be able to do.”

“That is not what I need,” her voice trembled as she extended her hands to capture one of his. She felt the rough pads of his fingers and thumbed each knuckle as she fell into contemplation. With his free hand, he curved it at the back of her neck and kissed the crown of her head. She reveled in the soft touch and marveled at the warmth that spread through her because of it. They stayed like that, close but not together, touching but not embracing, in silence, for what felt like an eternity.

She needed him; she had all but given that admission.

“I wish I could give you what you need,” he murmured into the silky strands of her hair.

“Then, do not deny me any longer,” she whispered, “Please.”

He lifted her chin and dipped his head to meet her lips. He kissed her slow, agonizingly, achingly languorous. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips whereupon she parted them willingly to allow Sasuke access. His hands dropped to her waist and he pulled her flush to his body. Every nook and curve of her form met his, the two melting in to each other.

Sakura raked her fingers down his front, over the buttons of his uniform and began to undo them one by one. Sasuke groaned into their kiss, but Sakura only pushed her lips harder against his. Rather than respond in kind, though, he turned his face to the side, her lips catching on his jaw.

“Sasuke-kun, please,” she was breathless, craving his touch, as she urged him to look at her. Sakura’s hands gripped his cheeks and his eyes were forced to meet hers.

“No,” he shook his head, but she would not remove her fingers.

“Please, do not be afraid of me,” her gaze was probing, “Do not fear my feelings and do not hold back your own. I am going mad without you. I can not rid myself of this ache and it resonates to my very soul. I must have you near me, I need you to hold me, I need - ”

Sasuke silenced her with a bruising kiss, spurred by the severity of her words and the profundity of her tone. She was tempting him, but he was an easy target, he thought. His discomfort was devoured by her assurance. And for a moment, he convinced himself that they were free to do as they pleased in the confines of her room. 

Then, the bitter, remorselessness of reality collided in to him and he wasn’t expecting it. He stole away from her, pacing to the doors and clenching his fingers around the handle.

“Don’t leave,” she pleaded and he had to shut his eyes to keep from looking back at her, “Sasuke-kun, please, stay with me, until tonight, until your shift ends. Just stay in here, with me.”

He began to think that if he stood in contemplation any longer, he would be able to crush the handle in his palm.

“I am afraid of what I will do if we are alone together,” he admitted, wrenching his eyes open, “I will wait outside until my replacement arrives.”

He didn’t give her time to respond, twisting the handle and rushing outside.

* * *

Sakura had dismissed her ladies when they enquired after her and retreated to the depths of her small library but found that she could retain none of its information. She meandered around the grand space of her sitting room, slipping in and out of her bedroom in utter agitation and boredom. The knowledge that Sasuke yearned for her so greatly and stood just on the other side of her walls was becoming too much to bear.

Then, someone knocked on the door. She ran to open it, but found only another guard standing in Sasuke’s place.

“Good evening,” she greeted him, realizing only then that night had fallen and it was time for Sasuke to return to the barracks.

“Good evening, Haruno-sama. Shall I light the fire?”

She stepped aside to let him enter, peering around the corner of the door to see Sasuke’s hunched back as he retreated down the path to his room.

“Yes, please. Excuse me, but I’ll be back in a moment,” she practically ran out the doors and after Sasuke, but slowed to a walk when she noticed the many guards still waltzing around, having just ended their shifts as well, “Uzumaki-san,” she called out, in case anyone was paying attention. He stopped and turned to face her with a trepidation that did not go unnoticed.

“Haruno-sama,” he responded, for all intents and purposes. She stepped up to him gingerly so that they might speak with some privacy. The snow still left on the ground crunched beneath her feet as she approached, pronouncing her steps.

“I have to know,” she began, fingers fumbling together, “I have to know what this all means. How do you intend to proceed with these feelings? If at all? And if you do not, then how can I persuade you to change your mind?” he regarded her carefully but still did not speak. The number of passersby was dwindling, soon it would just be the two of them out in the cold, only the other to seek solace from, “I can not simply let these things lie; you are difficult to ignore.”

“As are you,” his hands were stuffed into his pockets and she suspected that it had more to do with restraint than the bite in the air.

“Then I implore you not to. I have never felt so strongly for another and I do not wish to have someone grace my bed if they are not you.”

“Sakura, that is a foolish thought,” he grit his teeth and looked away before snapping his burning gaze back to her, “You think I do not want the same things? That I do not crave it so viciously? I would like to take you back to your rooms and have you in the most uncouth ways, but I am tethered by obligation. It is only one of the many reasons we can not have such interactions,” he ended on a snarl and expected a fiery retaliation from her, but all she did was whisper,

“Would you?”

Sasuke breathed deeply, hoping the chill of the air might help the heat in his body subside.

“Of course,” his voice was quiet then, conquered by his vulnerability with her.

“Have me,” she shrugged her shoulders as if it were nothing, “You possess so much of my being already, I can not imagine I will be any worse off if you possess all of me.”

“You will be,” he sighed heavily, “Believe me in this.”

“I have no reason to,” she countered, “Is it because of what happened today?”

“What?”

“You were distraught over something. Is that why you wish to shut me out?”

“Sakura, no,” he shook his head, “You can never be in my life, just as I am not meant to be in yours. There are areas of this world that we do not belong to and places that we are meant for. My place is not here, it is not by your side, it is not in your bed, much as we might pine that it could be. There are things in my life that should be kept far away from you, lest they damage you as they have me.”

“And so, by extension, you think you should be kept far from me?”

“I am certain of it,” he said, disregarding the Emperor’s request of him just hours earlier.

“You will not share with me your plight?”

“My _plight_ is not for you to concern yourself with,” he spoke with a somber tone, but kept her level gaze.

“Do you deny everyone as you have me?” Sakura questioned not of his desire for her, but simply his connection to those he interacted with.

“You are no exception,” he murmured, “There are things you should not know of me.”

“I want to know it all,” she persisted, itching to reach for some part of him now that they stood alone in the dark of the night.

“How can you say that?” he asked, incredulous.

“There is no thing you could have done that would so sway my feelings in the other direction,” the fire within her showed itself then and her disclosure to him caused his heart to skip in his chest. He wanted her; he wanted to tell her everything, to divulge his secrets to her and let her keep them safe, to tell her that he felt the same, to tell her that he did not care that they were world’s apart, because when it was just the two of them - When it was just the two of them, secluded in her room and seated at her table, it felt like they had found their _own_ world.

He stepped close to her then, reaching a hand up to stroke her cheek. Sakura turned into the soft touch, closing her eyes when he pressed his lips to her forehead. His mouth seared her skin, burned the imprint of his lips on her, marking her as his, and then he turned away, leaving her alone in the garden. There were some things that he would never be able to share with her.


	6. Chapter 6

She could still feel his lips on her skin, so soft and tender as he attempted to pour every feeling he had into the gesture. She closed her eyes as the wind pulled tendrils of pink hair free from her bun. He was still there, in her mind, walking away from her with his shoulders hunched by the burdens he carried. The longer she replayed it behind her eyes, his devastating words echoing there, too, the more she felt her heart sink.

Would she be confined to this state of limbo with him so frustratingly close and so horribly far away all at once? This constant push and pull she felt, like threads wound through her body, was a relentless thing. She had any man to pick from, she thought, and yet she knew they could not hold a candle to Sasuke. He commanded her attention with his presence and somehow gave Sakura much the same whenever they were together.

She blinked her eyes open and began to trudge through the snow to her chambers. Another night alone, she mused, tangled in the unending net of her desire for him. The door was still open for her and so she slipped inside, but stopped dead in her steps. Her guard lay slain on the floor by the fire, blood pooling to the center of the room and stretching through the cracks in the wood until it reached her feet. As she opened her mouth, the cold steel of a blade pressed against her throat.

“If you scream, I will kill you.”

* * *

For the first time in a long while, Sasuke sat with his fellow soldiers in the mess hall. The room was loud, filled with the chatter of genial persons. He felt out of place, seated by himself, and yet entirely interchangeable as they were a sea of the same uniforms, partaking in food so tasteless in comparison to what he’d enjoyed with Sakura. He pushed the rations around his platter, remembering the way Sakura would dissect their meals and separate them accordingly.

He was quickly losing his appetite; he had no hunger for food, he yearned only for her. He felt himself caught in a conundrum of sorts. If he stayed in this uncomfortable room, eating this abysmal food, he would be hounded with thoughts of her, improper things to be thinking at the dinner table. And he could not promise himself that he would be able to keep them at bay. But if he retreated to the barracks and attempted to sleep, he was certain the nightmares were waiting for him. He was not sure what terrified him more at that moment.

A guard approached the seat opposite Sasuke and took it without preamble. Sasuke recognized him as the one who had delivered Naruto’s letter. He was a broad, albeit squat man with a noticeable scar that ran down his left cheek. He offered Sasuke a polite nod before tearing into the charred meat with the utensils on his plate. He caught Sasuke’s gaze as he lifted his fork.

“I knew your brother,” the guard said through a mouthful. Sasuke frowned, it was not uncommon for other soldiers to know a general in the Emperor’s army.

“He is well known,” Sasuke answered, attempting to be pleasant, but finding that he was content in his solitude.

“Naruto? Yes,” the guard nodded as his knife scraped against his plate, “The Uzumaki’s have always been a prominent family in Konoha, always in high favor with the Emperor. Interesting that two brothers of the same upbringing end up in such different rankings. Why is it that you are merely a palace guard while the other Uzumaki is a respected general?”

Sasuke bristled; he did not care for this man’s attitude. He picked up his plate of sparsely eaten rations and stood brusquely. The man banged his fist rather forcefully on the table, but it was hardly heard over the chatter in the room.

“Sit down, Uchiha,” the guard hissed with a sneer, fixing Sasuke with a cold glare. Sasuke froze, eyes darting to the other tables in fear that somebody had heard that name. But it appeared nobody had as they all continued on in their blissful ignorance. The man had paused the enjoyment of his dinner until Sasuke resumed his seat. Sasuke fisted his hands on the table, sweat beading at the nape of his neck, “You resemble your brother greatly, one might think you and Itachi were twins.”

“How do you - ,”

“Do you prefer to be unknown? Is that why you have not joined the army?” the man scrutinized him for a brief moment, “No, you are restless in the shadows. Is it that you are afraid somebody might recognize you if you step too far out into the light? Letting fear control you, how alike your brother you are,” Sasuke furrowed his brows; what was he getting at? “He never could sit still for long.”

The cold prickle of unease crept up Sasuke’s back as the man spoke. He set down his utensils and rested his arms on the table. Sasuke caught the beginning’s of a tattoo on the man’s forearm, before he shoved the sleeve of his shirt down.

“Yes, I knew your brother well. He gave me this,” the man tapped the scar on his face with a bemused look, “He used to come to my family’s home in Konoha, to court my sister. He was quite taken with her. He brought her flowers, wrote to her everyday. He had the intent to marry her, but your clan would not hear of it. The next leader of the Uchihas marrying outside of the bloodline, to a commoner no less; it was absurd. It failed to stall his interest in her, however.”

“Who are you?”

“I was a farmer,” the man paused, losing himself in thought for a moment, "Now, I am a warrior. I never thought I would be; I was satisfied by my life in Konoha. But your family ruined that, didn’t they?”

“My family did nothing wrong,” Sasuke protested before he could stop himself.

“They did _everything_. My sister is _dead_ because of Itachi,” the man spat venomous words that silenced Sasuke abruptly, “They had made plans to marry in secret one night. She waited for him at the gates to Konoha when the Akatsuki came. They slaughtered her and left her to die in the open like an animal,” the man’s voice raised, causing a couple eyes to dart in their direction. He took a deep breath before continuing, leveling his voice then, “And now she is gone forever.”

* * *

“Are you one of them?” Sakura’s lip trembled as she stood in the puddle of another person’s blood, “Are you one of the Akatsuki?”

“Quiet!” the man behind her tightened his hold at her wrists, blade still pressed to her throat.

“If you wish to kill me then please just do it!” she said suddenly, “Why do you wait?”

“I should like to keep you alive, but if you insist on talking so much, I may have to reconsider,” she heard the man shift behind her, nudging her around the room so that they faced the window. The candle beside it flickered as a wind blew in from the open doors. The man spoke quietly, “We wait for the signal.”

* * *

“Why are you telling me this?” Sasuke’s fingers dug into his palms as the warrior fell silent.

“To keep her alive. To remind myself that she once existed,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he stood from the table, “And so that you _know_ you are about to pay for your family’s mistakes.”

A deafening blast sounded from outside and all heads turned to the window where a towering inferno could be seen on the other side of the lake, spiraling into the sky. As everyone rushed for the doors, Sasuke turned around and saw the man slinking through the crowds, out the back door. Sasuke ran after him, pushing through the frantic bodies and trying to keep the warrior in his line of sight.

He broke through into the chill of the night and caught the man running around the backside of the mess hall.

* * *

Sakura jumped when she heard the explosion, but the man held her fast. She assumed that was the signal, but still the blade at her throat did not move. Her breathing hitched as she struggled to pinpoint the sight of the blast. It was just opposite the lake, but far from the barracks or any other palace building. So, what were they trying to hit?

* * *

Sasuke ran away from the crowd descending on the sight of the detonation, tearing through the snowy paths after the man. He was heading for the shadows between buildings where Sasuke knew he would lose sight of him. Sasuke pulled a blade out from the belt at his thigh, aiming at the figure plowing ahead of him and threw it at the man, catching him in the center of his back. The man stuttered in his steps and fell to his knees, crying out in pain. Sasuke caught the man before he fell forward and yanked his head back so that he could see the dark of his eyes. He was supporting most of his weight so that the warrior did not collapse in the snow. With a sharp twist of the knife in his back by Sasuke’s brutal hand, he let out a sharp wail.

“The explosion was a distraction, was it not?” Sasuke spoke with a monotonous tone. When he was met with silence, he twisted the knife once more, “The explosion was a distraction! What are you here for?!”

“I - F - I found Itachi hiding in the forest that night,” he made an odd, garbled noise. Then, there was another twist of the knife and another painful cry, as anger boiled in Sasuke’s blood. The images of Kushina handing Itachi the cloak, Itachi darting into the forest, lost to Sasuke forever - they floated to the front of his mind, pressing upon him most insistently.

“Did you come simply to taunt me?” Sasuke felt a sightless rage taking over him, “Do you intend to turn me in to the Emperor as a traitor?!” the man shook his head limply, shifting forward before Sasuke caught him.

“That is when - gave me the scar.”

“Were you attempting to take the Emperor’s life?”

“Not - his,” the man was choking on his shuddered breaths, eyes rolling to the back of his head, on the verge of blacking out. Blood was covering Sasuke’s hand as he kept his grip tight on the knife in the man’s back, “I killed him - killed your brother,” the man took in a rough, shaking breath, “Traitorous snake!”

“Who?! Who did you come for?!” Sasuke yanked the blade out and the man fell forward with a thump to the ground. His eyes were searching wildly, slipping over Sasuke, unable to focus his gaze. Sasuke shook as he looked down at the warrior. He could kill him, wanted to so desperately in that moment, restraining himself only by the loyalty he had to the Emperor. But this man was tasking him to stack it against the loyalty he held for his clan, for his slain brother, and that was not something Sasuke could keep up for long.

“It’s - late. Too late, Uchiha. If I don’t come - take her,” the man coughed, blood and spittle dribbling down his chin and onto ground where it marred the snow, “He will take her, if I don’t come. He will take her.”

Sasuke felt the color drain from his face, the word cutting through him, opening his veins to filter only fear through his body; _her._

“Sakura,” his breath hitched and he turned on a heel, darting back to the gardens.

* * *

“Shit,” the man cursed and pulled Sakura away from the window, twisting her wrists painfully so. He pushed her forward to get her walking toward the doors, just as Sasuke rounded them, stopping in his tracks as he took in the sight before him. Tears were welling in Sakura’s eyes, her arms pulled sharply behind her back, as a white-masked man stood behind her, pressing a glinting blade to her delicate throat. But, despite the tremor in her lips and the tear that raced down her cheek, Sasuke could see the relief apparent in her eyes.

“Do not move, or I will kill her,” the man threatened with a disgusted tone. He pushed Sakura to her knees, so as to assure she could not move away so easily.

The blood on the floor took to her kimono as though it were a rag meant only to soak it up. Her shoulders trembled as they were forced back.

Sasuke had a feeling all too familiar infiltrating his body then, a powerlessness that consumed him and rooted his feet in place. But he had to move, he had to do something. It was not just an obligation to his job, it became a baser need that began in the core of his being and coiled itself through his mind. It was imperative that he saved her, that he held her again, and kissed her tears away.

“Sasuke-kun, I - ,” the man cut her off with a sharp wrench of her arms, causing her to cry out in pain. Sasuke started to run to her, but the man pushed the blade ever closer against Sakura’s neck. It was a sight that burned itself behind Sasuke’s eyes, a sound that rang in his ears, and one that he desperately wished to forget. Her ethereal features were twisted and her seraphic voice became gnarled, blemished by the agony she was put in.

“I warned you,” the man snarled, “Let us leave peacefully and no harm will come to her.”

“Sakura, do not move,” Sasuke clutched the blood soaked knife tighter and watched the man’s eyes twitch from behind the mask to his hand. Sakura stiffened and then tried to twist out of his grasp, but he yanked her closer.

“Let us leave and she lives,” the man repeated, clutching the hilt by her neck tighter, but giving no intention other than words that he would use it, “Let us - ,”

Sasuke threw his weapon and it lodged in the man’s chest, cutting his breath short. He teetered on his feet, sword clattering to the floor as he reached for the knife, only to crumple to the bloody floor. Sakura scrambled away and Sasuke ran to her, taking her in his arms. He crushed her against him as she cried into his shirt, shaking despite his tight hold on her. The man’s last, wheezing breaths filled the space and caused Sakura to flinch with every one he took.

Sasuke pushed her back into the privacy of her bedroom and shut the door behind him. Darkness shrouded them, save for the windows that filtered moonlight into the area, but in there she did not have to see the bodies laying carelessly on the floor in the other room.

“I’m so sorry,” he stroked her hair, petted her back, held her waist, hands moving to any piece of her he could grasp. He didn’t know why he was apologizing, but he kept on, “I’m so sorry, Sakura.”

“Sasuke-kun,” her fingers dug into his back and she looked up to him but he silenced her with a demanding kiss. He gave in to his need for her then, pulling free her bun and twisting his hands in her locks to urge her closer. He bit her lip, sucked it into his mouth, laved upon it with his tongue, because he could not bear to hear her say that she had been afraid, that she had feared for her life the way he had, “Sasuke-kun,” she broke away, lips still ghosting the other’s, exchanging harsh breaths. Sasuke rested his forehead against hers, eyes wide open, searching through the tangle of emotions that lay within hers. His cheek grazed her jaw and he leaned in to kiss her again, but she turned her head to the side, “Sasuke-kun,” she whispered again, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” her breath was warm on his skin, inspiring chills down his spine. Sasuke tightened his grip on her.

“Did he hurt you?” Sakura felt his pulse quicken as soon as he’d uttered the question and she shook her head.

“Not terribly,” she murmured, feeling the beginnings of sore muscles and bruises along her arms. Sasuke sighed heavily, a mixture of relief and somehow, still, a measurable amount of anger.

“I should not have left you tonight,” he admitted, but the notion had not even occurred to her. She was not resentful that he had not been with her; he had still come back.

“Hush,” her lips brushed his neck, when suddenly she remembered, “The explosion! What happened?”

She lifted her eyes to look at him, but he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he swallowed harshly, “I think it was a diversion, but I do not know if anyone was hurt.”

“How did you know to come here?” as soon as the words left her mouth, she saw in the dim light of the moon that familiar shadow fall over his features. Something had happened, she knew. It was that same something that he kept hidden, locked away in that part of him that she wished to know.

“There was another one, at dinner, another soldier, not one of ours,” his words were jumbled as he tried to think of a way to make sense of it without speaking the truth, “He came to me and he told me there would be an attack,” Sasuke conceded.

“He _told_ you?” Sakura inquired with disbelief.

“Yes. I will speak no more on the matter,” he said, then realized the harshness of his tone and reconciled, “Please, do not ask me to.”

“How can you expect me not to?”

“Sakura, please. I am just glad you are safe, now.”

“Tell me what happened,” she persisted, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“There is nothing more to tell,” he snapped. She flinched from his words. Sakura pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed it as countless thoughts circled her mind. Unanswered questions lay in wait at the tip of her tongue, but all she spoke was,

“I can not have half of you, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura slipped free of his arms and ran out of the doors into her sitting room then into the cold night. Sasuke ran after her, past the lifeless bodies, catching her arm and stopping her on the path. They could see the commotion on the other side of the lake, smoke still billowing up to the clouds, but the fire had died.

“Do not run from me now,” he pleaded, but she refused his gaze, “It is not safe.”

“I am going to find my father,” she said sternly, “I must know that he is okay.”

“Very well, but I will take you,” he bartered.

“Do not hold any manner of pretense with me that might suggest you would allow me your affections,” her words were vicious but he understood her anger. He had lost control of himself in the sanctity of her rooms.

“It is the truth: you, above anyone else, holds my attention.”

“Do not say such things to me,” she lost the fury in her voice then, her words breaking as they left her lips, “It is not fair to tell me I can have you and yet not give yourself to me fully.”

“I am sorry I kissed you,” his voice crescendoed as he continued, “He had you by the throat! I thought he would kill you! I thought that I would never see you smile, nor feel your lips, nor be captivated by your words again,” he held her face in his bloodied hands, urging her eyes up to his, “I was scared,” he admitted quietly, looking as though he might lean in to kiss her again, “So scared.”

Her fingers reached up to settle over his, but she pried them carefully free from her.

“I understand,” she swallowed and dropped her gaze, “I feared the same. But, as I said, I can not have half of you, Sasuke-kun; my heart can not stand it,” she began to turn away from him, though her fingers stroked his knuckles absently, “And I wish you would not be sorry for kissing me.”

“Haruno-sama! Are you all right?!” a menagerie of men, nobles and soldiers alike, came rushing through the gardens to Sakura. She dropped Sasuke’s hands promptly and stepped a safe distance away. Lee was the first to reach her and took her into his side, roping an arm around her shoulders. He led her away quickly, “Your father is safe in a room underground. He awaits you there.”

Sasuke watched her walk away from him, flanked by her envoy so much so that he quickly lost sight of her in the crowd. He supposed he should get used to the sight of her leaving him behind, if he wasn’t already.

Forcing himself away, Sasuke reentered her sitting room and took in the gory scene that spread itself out to each wall. He was not mindful of where he stepped as he could see no clear path around the streams of blood. The scarlet color coated the mantle of her fireplace and had even tarnished a couple books set atop there. The guard that lay there was familiar to Sasuke, but he was not close with any of his fellow soldiers. As he took in the vacancy of the guard’s eyes, it only reinforced why Sasuke lacked so many friendships.

And Sakura - well, that reinforced _numerous_ things for him.

He trudged over to the foreign man laying at the foot of her throne and took off the white mask, resembling something found in kabuki, his open, lifeless eyes staring to the ceiling. Sasuke had never seen him before; he was a young man with a smattering of facial hair that approached a tattoo at his neck. Sasuke pulled the collar of the man’s shirt aside to reveal a swirling red cloud at the juncture of his shoulder.

Akatsuki. The Emperor was right. Sasuke stood quickly and paced about the room. It didn’t make any sense. If that other man, the farmer from Konoha, if he was Akatsuki, did he lie about his sister and Itachi? Why would he join the group that killed his sister? Sasuke frowned, he’d never heard his brother speak about a woman, either.

But then, how could the man know who Sasuke was?

“Uzumaki-san,” a guard stepped through the doors and blanched upon seeing the gruesome picture awaiting him. He paused, eyes unable to settle on any one part of the room, least of all on Sasuke, “The Emperor needs to see you.”

Sasuke nodded and began toward the doors but paused when he stepped by the table at the window. A candle still burned beside her open books. He took up the medical journals and blew out the flame before following the man outside.


	7. Chapter 7

“You are a man of your word, Uzumaki-san,” the Emperor sat at the table beside him. They were in the council room once more, but this time Hatake Kakashi stood off to the side, listening in, watching with the one eye he kept uncovered, “You have no idea how greatly I value that," the Emperor clasped a hand on Sasuke's shoulder, "I am eternally grateful to you for my daughter's life.”

“Sir, it wasn - ,”

“It may have been nothing to you,” Kizashi cut him off softly, “But she is _everything_ to me.”

“Your gratitude is appreciated,” Sasuke bowed his head briefly, tightening his hold on the books in his lap. Kizashi took his hand back, folding both of them on the table.

“Tell me what you know of them.”

“They were Akatsuki. They had tattoos, one I got a clear look at, but I would bet that the other one had the same symbol.”

“What symbol?” Kakashi pushed off from the wall and stepped up to the table, “The red cloud?”

Sasuke nodded.

“Perhaps we have others within our ranks that have that emblem,” Kizashi regarded Kakashi for a moment, “I believe an inspection is required. Anyone with that symbol - if it is a tattoo, clothing - if it is on anything, we take them in for questioning. Let them know that if they fail to produce information they will be executed. I will not tolerate treason but I may be persuaded to leniency if they prove useful.”

“Yes, sir,” Kakashi nodded and they both turned their gaze back to Sasuke.

“One of them was from Konoha, he was once a farmer.”

“Konoha?” Kizashi thumbed his sideburns, following their trail and Sasuke was struck for a moment by how much the action reminded him of how Sakura would plait her hair as she contemplated, “Did he know your family?”

“No,” Sasuke shook his head, his throat becoming tight, “Not personally.”

“Right,” Kizashi fell silent once more, eyes staring into the wood of the table as though it held the answers he sought.

“He said he lost his sister to the Akatsuki and - ,”

“And yet he joined them,” Kakashi marveled at the notion as he completed Sasuke’s statement.

“The explosion was a diversion, right?” Sasuke asked. Kakashi nodded.

“A diversion, or a complete misfire. They set it off in a field about a quarter mile from the lake, but there’s nothing there, except for trees. There was no trace of anyone having been there by the time we arrived.”

“He had her to himself,” Sasuke spoke under his breath before his eyes met Kizashi’s, “They could have killed her the second they got into her rooms.”

“They need her,” Kakashi mused, “For ransom?”

“They have the resources, what more could they possibly want?” Kizashi stood abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

“Your throne,” Sasuke answered and the room fell silent.

“They could take it,” Kizashi shook his head, tired eyes falling to the floor, “They have the power to take it in a second and yet they play with us like a predator with its prey.”

“You have the support of your people, sir,” Kakashi offered, “If the throne is given instead of taken, it would make them appear more favorable.”

“They have razed villages in the name of absolute authority,” Sasuke said, incredulous to the thought that the people would forgive and forget that fact merely if the Emperor were to allow them ascension of the throne.

“I am not agreeing with them, Uzumaki-san,” Kakashi said gingerly, “But we need to consider possibilities.”

“It may very well be their plan,” Kizashi meandered around the sparse room, passing the maps hung on the walls, the exotic books lining the shelves, “But it is not a possibility. I will not let them have that much power.”

"I do remember the farmer saying the other man would take her if he fell behind," Sasuke's throat felt dry, the image of Sakura against a blade pervading his stream of thoughts. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the sickening fear that rose within him.

"I do not suppose he said where?" Kakashi asked, but Sasuke shook his head, "And was there anything else?"

"No."

Kizashi nodded and bowed to Sasuke. He returned the gesture and held out the books he'd been holding on to.

"I am sure she will not be staying in her rooms for a while, so I thought Haruno-sama might want these," Sasuke said politely. Kizashi took the books, turning them over in his hands with an amused smile.

"She will be happy to have these, I know," Kizashi nodded his head, “I am moving her to the south building, until I am certain I can trust the rest of my soldiers. It has not been used in some time, but I would like to offer you one of the rooms there.”

“Sir, I - ,”

“Truthfully, I do not want you far from her, at least until Kakashi-san has had the opportunity to eliminate any other internal threats. I don’t suspect they will be making any moves for an attack until they realize their soldiers have failed; I suggest you catch up on some rest,” Kizashi smiled warmly at him, but there was a slight agitation in his eyes, “Please take some time to gather your things from the barracks. I do ask that you use discretion. Do not tell anyone where you are going, nor where Sakura will be kept.”

“Of course,” Sasuke nodded, but he could not contain the twitch in his fingers. He fisted his hands, bowed to them, and took his leave.

* * *

By the time he exited the barracks, the sky was lightening, glowing with pink and orange hues. At this hour, on a normal day, the palace would only just be coming alive, but it seemed everyone was still stirring from the restless night. Sasuke slung his pack over his shoulder and paved a new path down to the south side of the palace grounds. The lone building that resided there had often been home to guests during the summer. It was a modest size with five separate rooms that had been lavishly decorated the last time Sasuke had been stationed there. However, that had been some time ago when the Emperor and his court had once been free to move from palace to palace, following the seasons.

Now, it seemed to fall short of his memory as an advisor to Kizashi pushed open the door and led Sasuke into the dismal, empty hallway. He handed Sasuke a key, explaining that it could be used for any room in the property.

“This is where you will stay,” the advisor motioned to his left, then gestured to his right, “Haruno-sama will be in here. You will be the primary guard, but we will have someone stationed outside of the building, once the investigation has been finished. Until then, it is only you.”

“Uzumaki-san,” Sakura rounded the corner of one of the other rooms. She gave the advisor a courteous nod and settled her eyes on Sasuke. She had a sweet smile on her face, but it did not reach her piercing gaze. She was still dressed in her bloodied kimono, “My father told me you would be looking after me now, thank you.”

The gratitude she offered was empty, the words failing to provide any depth to her tone. But the advisor only smiled and bowed before exiting the premises. The sound of the door shutting resounded in the hallway and emphasized the capacity of the space around them.

“It was upon his insistence, not mine,” Sasuke reasoned.

“I knew as much,” her voice lilted, “And now you are confined to my company indefinitely.”

“There are worse things,” he spoke softly, cursing the thoughts of her laying lifeless as one of the bodies in her rooms when it appeared in his mind. She saw the haunted veil in his eyes and understood what he meant. She felt an ache in her very bones, a demand to quell his discomfort and assure him that she was all right, that she was there, alive, and sharing that moment with him.

“Thank you for my books.”

“If you would like me to get you the rest - ,”

“No, Sasuke-kun,” she shook her head and bit her lip to contain her smile, “The thought was enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“You can cease your attempts to outdo your own selfless acts,” she cocked her head to the side playfully, but there was something that disturbed her gaze, affecting the brightness in her eyes, “You have already saved my life; you will not be able to win my gratitude so greatly with anything else.”

“You know that is not why I did it,” he meant his voice to sound firm, but the words came out almost as if they were a question, “I do not seek your favor. I will not pine for you the way Lee-san and those other men do. I will not sit idly by and write poetry and hope that some day you might notice me,” he kept his voice level, but found his nerves racked with unease, “I do not do these things because I am trying to manipulate your attention. I want you safe and happy,” he clenched his fists so that he would not reach for her, “It sickens me when I think that you have been anything otherwise.”

“Sasuke-kun, I - ,” her gaze calmed.

“I was terrified, Sakura. I thought he would kill you. I didn’t - I could not - ,” he let out a frustrated growl, but softened when he saw the tears in her eyes and the ones that wet her cheeks.

She ducked her head and moved into her room. He followed her adeptly, entering on her heel. They had dressed her bed, filled her tub with steaming water and supplied her with firewood, but the space was about half the size of the sitting room they’d once occupied on many an afternoon. The curtains over her window were drawn, thick cloth refusing the daylight. She threw a look over her shoulder that caused Sasuke to stop in his steps. Did she not want him here?

Sakura walked up to him, eyes glinting with an ocean of sorrow, and turned once they were a foot apart, back facing him. She gathered the loose tendrils of her hair in her hands and pulled them over her shoulder, “Will you help me?”

For a long moment, Sasuke was truly perplexed by her question. But then it dawned on him, and he felt a surge of heat rushing to his face.

“Sakura, I - I ca - ,”

She turned her head slightly and he saw fear in her widened gaze. She furrowed her brows at him and released her hair with a distorted huff, fingers flying to the tie of the obi. She fumbled with the large knot as tears of frustration streamed down her cheeks. She began to yank at the thick cloth but it would not budge. Her knuckles were whited with the effort she put forth, but in her haste she failed to unravel the intricate tie.

“I do not care if you must cut me out of this damned thing, but I can not have this blood on me any longer - ,”

He felt a piece of his heart crumble for her then, seeing the damage she was trying to hide rear its head. He did not want to see her so pained, so traumatized as when she had been forced to her knees in a pool of blood that did not belong to her. He dropped his pack to the floor.

He pried her trembling hands away and began to pull at the edges until it came free. He let the obi fall to the ground and moved his fingers around to the front of her waist. She took a step back as he began to pull the buttons of her outer dress free, tired frame trusting in the expanse of his chest. He tugged it down her arms and it joined the obi on the floor. Next, he went to unlacing the back of her corset, feeling as though he were unwrapping a present with incredible rapidity.

Sasuke’s fingers moved of their own accord, or at least that’s what he told himself, but deep down he knew it was that baser need, that instinct he had around her that guided him to action. He yanked the laces out and her corset fell from her body. He undid the ribbons at her front that held the last piece of her clothing together, one by one, until Sakura helped him, tearing at them so frantically she ripped them from the cloth. He pulled the fabric off of her shoulders and she was left only in her undergarment: a small piece of lace, held together only by silk ribbons at her hips, barely concealing her nether regions.

For a moment, only their stuttered breaths filled the space around them, then his fingers settled on the soft skin of her shoulders. His touch glanced her flesh and then tightened around her.

“I was so scared,” he dropped his head to her neck, whispering into her ear. She choked on a sob and raised her hands to tangle in his hair, scraping against his scalp, “I can not stop seeing you like that,” his voice became hoarse, wrung with distress, “I was afraid I would lose you forever.”

“You can not lose me,” she whispered, leaning closer to his structure. Her lip trembled, “You do not have me.”

Sasuke swallowed thickly and hid his face at the juncture of her neck. She was pressed against him, her body aligned with his and he could feel himself harden at the thoughts that assaulted his mind because of it.

“I want to,” his voice was muffled and weak, strained by the burden of his need for her.

“Wanting me at convenience will not suffice, Sasuke-kun,” she murmured.

“There has never been a moment where I have not wanted you,” his fingers ran down her arms to clasp her hands, “There have only ever been moments where I have had to deny myself you.”

“You still deny me, Sasuke-kun,” she stepped out of his grasp and moved to her bath. She unraveled the satin bows holding up her panties and they fell like a feather at her feet. She heard him choke on his breath, but her voice did not waver as she spoke “If you truly want me, all you must do is join me. If you do not want to, you are free to return to your room and you will hear no more of this from me.”

He wanted to hear more, he wanted to hear everything from her lips. Sakura turned, holding her bruised arms over her breasts and hiding her sex in modesty. His eyes widened and his mouth slackened as he took in the entirety of her flushed, bare flesh. Almost every swell and curve of her body was open to his gluttonous gaze. She waited with bated breath to hear his answer.

But he never spoke it. Instead, Sasuke knelt down, eyes leaving hers simply to pull at the laces of his boots. When he had slipped them off, he stood and unzipped his vest. Sakura reached her hands out, revealing every inch of her skin, and shoved his vest down. It joined the mass of her clothing. She unbuttoned his shirt and rolled the sleeves down his arms. She had seen him shirtless before, but to be up close, to be able to touch the planes of his chest, the hard cut of his muscles - her fingers danced over his skin, coming upon the trail of dark hair at his abdomen that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. He caught her wrist as she began to play with the leather of his belt. He was throbbing against the placket of his pants.

"You have a duty to your title and to your future husband."

"Tonight, my only duty is to you," she leaned up to kiss him and his heart swelled at her words. His lips moved over hers with a measure of desperation and leisurely enjoyment while her fingers made quick work of his buckle. A thought flashed at the forefront of his mind, flickering like a candle:

This was wrong.

He couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t do this.

They were too different, too far apart and striving too much to be so close together.

But the beat of his heart and the blood rushing south soon snuffed out that candle.

Her hands undid the button of his waistband and pulled down his zipper, but she did not reach for him. She slipped away from him, lowering herself into the large tub. She watched with crazed and lustful eyes as he stepped out of his pants, his turgid length springing free. He felt hot under her gaze and hurried into the bath, settling behind her. His legs spread so that they were on either side of her and she scooted herself back against his chest. The curve of her backside was flush with his member under the water; she could feel him thrumming against her and it prompted an ache in her core.

Sasuke circled his arms around her, skimming the bottom of her breasts, and she clasped her hands over his, head coming to rest on his shoulder. She lost herself, briefly, to the intimacy of the moment. She imagined that this could be any day, despite the dried blood on her knees, that this could be routine for them. She felt his unsteady breath brush her neck, but it soothed her to know that she was not the only one racked by nerves. She closed her eyes when his lips fell to her exposed shoulder.

“Sasuke-kun,” she moaned when he began to suck at the tender skin there and she felt him twitch against her. She had no frame of reference, but he seemed big, long and thick at her hip.

“Sakura,” his voice was breathless, his fingers running beneath the water to glide along her skin. She parted her legs as he slid over the inside of her thighs. A shiver ran through her as he passed over her quivering sex. When he bit her neck and dug his fingers into her pliant flesh, she moaned and jerked against him “You are far too tempting.”

“I seek only to tempt you,” she gave an unsteady breath and twisted in his grasp, the water sloshing from side to side in the tub as she moved to straddle his waist. Sakura was sitting in his lap, the strength of his rigid member pressing against her pulsing entrance. He set his jaw tight, eyes captive in her gaze, “I wore that for you.”

She gestured flippantly to the heap of blue cloth on the floor.

“I told you, there is not a moment I do not desire you,” his fingers dug into her hips to keep her still; he could feel her heat over his cock and it was clouding his mind with incessant thoughts of ravishing her, especially given their positioning. Her breasts sat pert, invitingly in front of him. He feared that if he so much as inched his fingers he would not be able to control himself, “I desire you at any hour of the day, no matter how frivolous or plain your wardrobe.”

"I think you should try your hand at poetry," she smiled coyly, leaning closer to him, "Your words incite passion within me where others fail."

Sasuke smirked. 

"What do they say?"

Sakura grinned and held her hand up, eyes flicking to the ceiling with a reverential gaze. 

"Oh, Haruno-sama, your jade orbs are more vibrant than the trees of the forest," she giggled when Sasuke gave her a look of irritation, "Your smile shines brighter than the sun itself," she stalled her laughter when Sasuke's expression sobered and murmured, "Something like that; it all sounds the same."

"Do they ever remark on your intelligence?" she shook her head softly, "Or your compassion?" another no, "How about your humor?" again she shook her head, "Pity," he murmured, eyes shining with mirth.

"If you can see those qualities, then that is all I care for," she whispered, sliding down his body to lay against his chest. She pressed her ear against his heart, listening to its beat while the bath water lapped at her lobe. With the curtains of her room closed and the quiet between them, it was hard to imagine that it was still daytime just outside. “Sasuke-kun?”

“Hn?”

“Have you - ,” she paused, furrowing her brows, “I do not wish to make you upset, but have you killed anyone before?”

“Yes,” his response rumbled in his chest, “Those men were not the first.”

“Do you ever feel - ,”

“There is no point in feeling remorse,” he said stiffly, but tightened his grip on her, “But sometimes it is a difficult thing. Last night was not. I would do it again.”

She met his eyes, she had to see him. There was warmth in his gaze, but a darkness there as well, a bloodlust she had not seen before. Oddly, she did not feel fear. She felt warmth, a coveting heat that enveloped her the longer she looked into his black orbs.

“Am I terrible to be comforted by that?” she asked quietly.

“If you are, then I am worse for wanting it,” Sasuke fought the urge to allow his hands free roam. There was very little still keeping the palpitation of his cock at bay, “I do not keep secrets from you because I wish to," he spoke quietly, "It is only because I must. And even to admit that puts you in far more danger than I would like."

"I do not understand, Sasuke-kun,” she did not look away, allowing him the exposure of her gaze and the truth that lay there, “I am not mad. I simply just do not understand. I hope one day you will let me.”

He said nothing, only cupped her chin and lifted her lips to his.

* * *

He was still hard, throbbing painfully for her as he wrapped a towel at his waist and she did not fail to notice. Sakura padded with quiet steps to him, knotting her robe at her waist. Her fingers slipped along the sharp cut of his abdomen where she felt him suck in a sturdy breath.

“I think you hold more patience than I,” she smiled demurely, “And more control.”

“It is waning,” he confessed, and caught her hand in his before she could do something irreversible. He watched the glint in her eyes, caught the blush in her cheeks, and traced the line of her lips; she seemed too beautiful, too good to be real and to hold such feelings for him, “I think you need rest. As do I.”

“I do not wish to sleep just yet,” her face fell, but he noted that it was not simply disappointment etching over her features.

“Sakura, you have just been through something traumatizing. You are not thinking straight, you need sleep,” he expected her to fight him, to be insulted by his gentle insistence, but instead, Sakura merely nodded.

“Very well, Sasuke-kun,” she turned away from him, but he pulled her back, flush to his chest. His lips caught hers roughly and she responded with fervor. Every time he kissed her, he felt a swell of relief, a reminder that she was alive and standing before him. The breath stolen from her, she panted softly, “Will you stay with me? Please?”

He did not comprehend that he was hoping she would ask him until the words had left her mouth. He did not want to leave her then. He was afraid that if she disappeared from his sight she might be stolen from him forever.

“Yes,” his thumb stroked her cheek. Sakura clasped his hand and led him to her bed. She pulled back the covers and slipped beneath them. It occurred to him then, as he slid in next to her, that he had left all of his fresh clothes in his pack across the room. But her robe had shifted, exposing the tops of her breasts and the alabaster slope of her thighs, and he realized that he was not concerned. She observed him quietly as he drew her into his side; skin brushed skin, tentative breaths were shared, and the warmth of their bodies were exchanged in a contented loop.


	8. Chapter 8

_She didn't understand why she couldn't breathe, but there was a distinct pressure against her neck, cutting off her air. She snapped her eyes open and saw her new bedroom, pristine as she had left it, except for Sasuke's body splayed beside the tub, bleeding out onto the floor. A sword had been run through his chest, pinning him to the ground as though he were a doll. She wanted to sob, to cry and scream, but whatever held her neck prevented her. And her assailant was nowhere to be seen._

Sakura woke with teary eyes and trembling fingers that had drifted from Sasuke's comfort, and now clutched her sheets in terror. He was asleep, and alive, beside her; she sighed in relief, but her mind still raced with thoughts of tragedy and scenarios of 'what if.' What if he had been killed? What if he had come too late? Worse yet: what if she had survived and he had not? How would she ever cope?

With unsteady hands she began to reach for him, but stopped short. She did not want to disturb him just because her mind was in a state of unease.

She stood and tiptoed to the window, peeling the curtains back ever so slightly to see that night had fallen. She felt her pulse quicken simply seeing the moon sitting in the sky. What if the Akatsuki attacked tonight? Would they be so lucky next time?

She peered over to where Sasuke lay on her bed; how had he known to come for her? Why would an enemy divulge a plan so carefully thought up to a man with the power to shift the course of that plan? Sakura grimaced and let the curtains fall, shrouding the room in darkness once more; she knew he was keeping the truth from her. She couldn't understand why he would need to lie about saving her. Unless - she blanched; what if he was working for the Akatsuki? What if it was all misdirection, one big diversion? And now she was alone with him. . .

No, no, that wouldn’t make sense. But now she could not quell the suspicions that rose at the mysteries that followed him, mysteries that had once attracted her. She settled herself by the fire, taking up the flint and steel. Furiously she struck them together, over and over as she had seen her servants do many times. It appeared to be an acquired talent as it took her multiple tries before she could strike even the smallest flare. She stoked the flame and contemplated.

* * *

_There was a sweet, low hum in the air, pervading the previous silence. He could feel her wet fingertips glancing his bicep, slipping over his shoulder, and moving to the nape of his neck. The humming took on a humorous note, for a moment, before she sobered herself. He heard her shift, the water in the bath obeying her movements, then felt her breasts flush against him._

_He opened his eyes to her welcoming smile and cheshire grin. His heart swelled and thumped in his chest; he reached for her._

_“Sasuke-kun, I - ,”_

_The door burst open and a gang of masked men marched through. Before Sasuke could think to act, one of them had grabbed Sakura by the hair, yanking her out of the tub. They threw her to her knees, a hand coming to circle and tighten around her neck._

_“NO!”_

_Sasuke pushed himself to his feet, only to be shoved back down by another faceless soldier. They pressed a knife to his throat, but even without it, Sasuke found that he could not move. He could only watch._

_“Sasuke-kun, please,” droplets of water glided down her quaking body. He was shackled by some unseen force, “Sasuke-kun, help me,” one of the men took up a blade, running it along the length of her spine, “Sasuke-kun!” The man shoved the knife into her back and her plea became a garbled scream._

_Sasuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The soldier’s hand was at her throat as he drove the knife into her back over and over. Sasuke watched the light leave her eyes, watched her purpled lips take their last breath, watched the blood dribble down her chin. His body flared with an anger that burned everything else away. But something else began to appear, too. He fought it off, struggled to hold on to every tendril of rage he had. But it came anyway - the sadness, the sorrow, the unimaginable despair at seeing her lifeless form collapse in the bloody tub. She was gone._

When he started awake, Sakura was not beside him. Sheer panic gripped him before he saw her sitting by the crackling fire, expressionless, withdrawn in herself. He threw off the damp towel, landing it on the floor, and stalked over to her stark naked. He knelt behind her and scooped her into his arms. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent that was entirely her, sweet like the blossoms she had been named after. She began to weep, curling against him and shaking as the whispers of her dream still rang in her ears.

"You're still here," his voice was strained, choking on his words. It was an effort to push them past his lips. She grasped his bicep and shook her head.

"I am not here. I am very far away," she whispered, but her words were harried as she trembled. "I have not left that man's grasp. I can still feel his hold on me."

"No, it is me," Sasuke began to sway, rocking her gently as though he could shake her out of her haze.

“Is it you?”

“Of course. It is only me.”

“Do you wish me dead?”

“What are you - ,”

“Answer me,” her voice was cold, level and lethal, “It is a very simple question. Do you wish me dead?”

“No,” he shook his head furiously, “How could you ask me that?”

“Why must you lie to me then?”

“I may keep things from you, but I do not - ,”

“Are you with them?” her eyes locked with his then, but she held him fast, “Are you of the Akatsuki?”

His throat bobbed and he turned his head.

“No.”

“Yet you look away from me.”

“I am ashamed,” he uttered softly.

“Why?”

“You hold nothing back from me, but I can not be honest with you.”

“Because you will not.”

“Because I can not,” he repeated, forlorn. His head dropped into her neck, breath branching over her skin, “You’ve no idea the weight I carry each day from the things I can not say. It is not just you I hide from.”

“I do not understand why you must hide from me at all,” she leaned against him, garnering what little support she could, “I - I feel very strongly for you, Sasuke-kun. Is that not enough?”

He considered her cautiously; it was everything to him, but how could he tell her that? Would she even believe him? He pressed kisses to her shoulder that started as a feather touch and grew rough in nature as he began to pull her flesh between his teeth, sucking purple welts there.

“Sakura, please.”

“I will not have half of you.”

“I am certain that if you know the truth, you will not want any of me.”

“But you will not let me decide that,” her voice was bitter, but still she clutched him tightly.

“It is inevitable; you will have no decision in it,”he let silence fall around them but it could not penetrate the space between them. Sakura nuzzled her head against his, fingers falling to the nape of his neck where she stroked him idly, “Why must I be honest? What good is it to tell you these things if you will never truly be mine?”

The pain in his words was palpable, throat tightened with despair. Sakura sighed and shut her eyes to the dimly lit room, to the harsh reality outside of her walls, and to the world that surrounded them. She could not entertain those thoughts as he so seemed to do. He appeared to keep them as his only company, as a reminder to himself that he could never have happiness. Well, it seemed that if he were doomed to misery, then she would be, too.

"I am yours, Sasuke-kun," her nails dug into his arm painfully so, but he was grateful for the discomfort, “I need you."

Her eyes flashed with desperation and desire, overcome by lucidity now. She slid her hands high, twisting his hair around her nimble fingers and pulled his mouth up. She bit his lips and caught the groan that left him between hers. She was frantic, frenzied, he realized, seeking to devour him in her passion. It dawned on him that he wanted to do the same and, as terrifying as the thought was, it prompted him to cradle her in his arms as he stood, walking them back to her bed. 

He set her on the sheets and she slid up the length of the bed on her back, keeping a steadfast grip on Sasuke’s arms. She had no intent to let him go far from her. With one hand, she deftly slid the tie of her robe out, the silk loosening to reveal her soft skin. Sasuke shut his eyes, lowering his forehead to hers. Sakura captured his lips, but froze, murmuring something against her mouth.

“ - op - ,” she pulled back ever so slightly to hear him properly, “Please stop.”

“Why must I stop?” she ran her thumb under his eyes and he opened them, “Sasuke-kun, why?”

“I can not control myself around you and what’s worse, I do not wish to,” Sasuke’s hand flew to her waist, ducking beneath the fabric of her robe to grip the compliant flesh of her hips.

“What good is control?” she dug her fingers into the prominent planes of his muscular back and slid her leg between his. Her thigh grazed his hot length and she felt his preseminal fluid smeared along her skin. He groaned and thrusted against her. Sakura grinned coyly, “Your control is mesmerizing, but it is not what I desire. I do not want you to restrain yourself from me,” he was lost in the expanse of her gaze, enthralled with her words, “I do not _want_ half of you, Sasuke-kun. I _need_ all of you, every bit.”

“How can you ask these things of me?”

“You are the only person I have ever wanted to ask,” she responded without hesitation, further entreating his trust, “I do not wish to ask them of anyone else,” she shook her head, twirling her fingers in his unkempt strands, “While it is the way you speak to me, it is also the way you see me. You look at me like I am the sun, like I am a lake and you are claimed by thirst.”

“I have never wanted somebody like I want you,” he swallowed past the lump in his throat, “And so I suppose I have never looked at another person that way.”

“I do so wish you would continue to look at me as you do now,” she paused and licked her lips, hands slipping to splay over his lower back, “And I do so wish you would touch me as you have in these illicit reveries you carry.”

“I do not want to offend you with my - lechery,” he had an odd lilt to the corner of his mouth and it caused her to laugh.

“Rest assured, I have dreamt fantasies far more lascivious than you,” she nipped his chin playfully and let her inner thigh glide along his member once more. Sasuke hissed through gritted teeth.

“Is that a challenge?”

“You should not be ashamed to admit defeat, Sasuke-kun,” her tongue laved the lobe of his ear before she bit the skin. He pressed himself more ardently against her and shook with the restraint it took to keep himself from having her right then and there.

“I encourage you to accept your loss with honor,” his eyes were black pools of sinful heat, causing a pleasant throb in her core. Before she could retort, he caught her lips in a commanding kiss. His hand rushed to her neck, thumb tilting her jaw as he moved his lips down her heated skin. She moaned as his teeth scraped her shoulder and caught her clavicle. His mouth closed around a pert nipple, tongue flicking rapidly. She choked on a whimper as fire spread through her, emanating from his ministrations. He seized her gaze as he moved further south. He saw her breathless, saw her fingers fly to the pillows above her, saw her arch under him, following his lips like a magnet. Sasuke stopped at her hip, heaving a frustrated groan that became muffled against her, and sat back on his heels.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, eyes dropping unabashedly to his reddened cock that leaked and pulsated under her gaze. He cupped her thigh and removed it from between his legs. He had her ankle in his hand, kissing a trail up to her knee. Sakura watched him intently, begging him quietly.

She did not need to beg; he was far too keen to give in to his own desires. Now he stood at the precipice and she was waiting for him on the other side. Below lay every fear and consequence he conjured between them. It was utterly terrifying and completely jarring to see them laid bare as Sakura was before him. His grip on her was taut, fierce, because he had no interest in letting her go then, despite every rational thought that urged him to. But he was not thinking rationally now, he was not thinking at all. He was driven, urged by that soundless yearning.

“Sasuke-kun,” she blinked steadily, curious eyes delving into the abyss of his. And there were the threads once more, wound so tightly within him, but this time pulling him so harshly toward her. She was too beautiful, too enticing, so seductive in every manner of speaking and he realized she held a power over him then. She could call him what she liked, do with him what she pleased, could tug at his heart until it broke, and he would love her still. He would love her.

“I will not go farther than this,” he lowered her leg to his side, fingers gliding along her pale skin to meet at the apex of her thighs. He skimmed the wet lips of her sex and she shivered, shutting her eyes to revel in the feeling. His finger circled her opening, teasing her with tender thrusts as he moved lower on the bed.

“But, I - ,”

He pressed his tongue flat against her, licking upwards in one smooth motion. He hooked his arms beneath her thighs, hands coming to rest at her hips as a spasm ran through her. He repeated the motion and a hoarse cry was torn from her slackened jaw. Encouraged, his lips enclosed her aching bundle of nerves and he began to suck, powered by his own greed, his own desire to hear those wicked noises leave her. Slowly, he worked a finger inside her, twisting to and fro, passing each knuckle gradually. She moaned as her walls clenched from the intrusion. He shuddered, cock throbbing painfully at the phantom sensation of how tight and hot she would feel around him.

“You are far sweeter than I imagined,” the timbre of his voice sent vibrations through her nub, “And more tempting now than I had anticipated,” he nipped her clit and she gave a soft yelp of agreeable surprise, “I can not go farther than this, for your own sake,” he whispered and her eyes fluttered open to catch the obscene look in his. His lips were wet and his pupils were lost in the darkened lust of his gaze, “But you must trust that I want to, it is all I want in this moment.”

She softened, but lost her composure when he curled his finger inside of her, stroking against an erogenous spot she had never taken the time to explore.

“Sasuke-kun,” her voice broke as his tongue resumed its compassionate assault on her clit, “You are not alone in your desire.”

He hummed in assent as the thrum between his legs became too difficult to ignore. He pulled away from her as a pressure began to build in the heated center of her core. It spread like a blaze through her abdomen, but started to die just as quickly once his touch left her. She shot straight up with a whine, but stopped short of admonishing him when she saw that he had his member in hand, stroking its engorged length. A very distinct satisfaction overcame his features and Sakura found herself bound to him by fascination. Her heart scurried in her chest as she watched his thighs tense and his grip squeeze his tip. More fluid spilled out, his cock twitching, responsive, but he stilled himself with a sharp hiss. His hand shot to his side as though he had been burned. With determined fingers, Sakura reached for him, but he captured her wrist.

“I fear I will not be able to help myself if I do not leave you now,” his eyes were lowered to the sheets they sat atop, so she took his chin in her free hand and brought his attention back.

“I do not want you to leave,” her eyes were glistening with vexation and sorrow. Her fingers slid down his neck, over his pectorals, raking her nails along his abdomen, “I wish you could take me now,” she inched ever closer to him, hand dropping to his length to take it in her grasp. She began to move in a light rhythm, up and down, his head dropping forward to rest against hers. His breath was ragged in her ear, passing low profanities, “I wish I could feel you inside of me.”

His hand left her wrist and travelled to her sensitive nub, moving in brisk circles that inspired Sakura’s hold on him to quicken. They fell into each other, moaning the other’s name, sweat gathering between them as they clutched each other with the desperation their pleasure demanded. They only floated higher; it seemed unimaginable, but it appeared that their was no limit to the gratification they awarded the other.

She felt the pulse of his veins, the stark increase of his cock’s palpitations. He felt her tensing against him, shaking with the promise of her orgasm. And then they were falling. He groaned as thick jets of cum splashed her stomach and thighs, hot against her already perspiring skin. She moaned into his shoulder, trembling, teeth sinking in as her release sent shockwaves outward from every nerve in her body. Still, he twitched in her hand, and still, he circled her clit, both coaxing the other back to that moment of their world on her bed. Their breaths were short and sharp, bodies tensed and coiled with a hot shame that washed over them as though they had done something wrong.

Then, Sakura peppered kisses along his jaw and he turned his mouth to hers. Their tongues met, battling for dominance, and inciting the affirmation that no, they had not done anything wrong. They paused to regard each other; flushed cheeks, restless eyes, and greedy lips. Sakura smiled and kissed him again. He met her fervor with an immeasurable zeal, smiling in turn.

His arms moved to ensnare her waist and she locked hers around his neck as he pushed her back on the bed. She felt a layer of sweat on her skin, her bones ached from the previous night, and her muscles had begun to fail her in the aftermath of her release, but Sakura found that she could not bring him close enough. His hands moved comfortably along her body, tracing every line as though they were already familiar to him.

“Sasuke-kun, stay with me tonight,” she whispered softly. He nodded and shifted to his side, pulling at the sheets to cover the both of them. She turned into his chest, realizing she had begun to display a similar familiarity as well.

“Of course,” he acquiesced, but his heart stuttered as clarity permeated his mind.

He loved her.

Did he - ? It was a silly question and so he did not give it time to flesh out. He longed for her in ways he did not know were possible; he _loved_ her.

“Your thoughts are restless,” he froze when she spoke and peered down, but her eyes were already closed.

“It is rare that they are not,” he drew patterns into the skin of her back with anxious fingers.

“I know,” she said quietly, “I know you, Sasuke-kun.”

He sighed and held her tighter, feeling her breath even out in the swell of her chest. She thought she knew him, but his heart ached as he discerned that she had only barely scratched his surface.


	9. Chapter 9

For once, Sasuke did not want the sun to rise; he did not care to face the day. It was strange to him to think that he should ever leave her bed. What could possess him to want to? Some time in the night she had shifted, facing away from him, but she had not strayed farther than an arm's length and he could still feel the curve of her hips at his waist. He could see red and purple marks at her neck from where his lips had been, but he could also see the bruises at her wrists that rested beside her head. They were more prominent now and it made his stomach turn. Had she truly thought him capable of doing something so heinous to her?

He slid his arm out from beneath her carefully to turn on his back. The canopy of the bed surrounded them with a thin, pale curtain that filtered what little light was allowed in the room. It reminded him that he had a job to do, and it sadly did not involve wasting the day away between the sheets with Sakura.

Sasuke pulled himself out of the bed and assembled the majority of his clothing. Being decorated with blood and reeking of sweat, he shoved it inside of his pack and took out a fresh uniform. He attempted to dress quietly, but his musings were obnoxiously loud. He was not certain what it would be like when she woke, but he felt a noticeable anxiety at the thought of facing her after the previous night. The revelation of his feelings coupled with the carnal explorations that had occurred between them had Sasuke contemplating how things might proceed from there. Perhaps she would not want to see him after all they had done. Though any sane man might think the notion irrational, Sasuke could not help the less than favorable scenarios floating through his mind. Perhaps she would change her opinions about him entirely.

“Sasuke-kun, I do believe I prefer you naked,” he turned to face her as he was buttoning up his shirt. She was sitting up in the bed, knees covering her chest, with a wistful glint in her eyes. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. He smirked, but felt himself falter in his resolve when he got the urge to march over there and kiss her.

“Would you keep me that way?” he shrugged on his vest, pulling up his zipper, then went to lacing up his boots.

“If you tempt me, I will shackle you to this bed,” she had a humorous quirk to her lips, but her tone was pragmatic. He paused, taking her in and shook his head, chuckling.

“You have it wrong,” he paced over to her in long, measured strides. She admired the strength of his posture and the pattern of his gait; he exuded an intensity that made her knees weak. Sasuke leaned over her, brushing feral strands of pink hair from her drowsy features, “You would not have to force me.”

She smiled wide and rose to her knees, sheets slipping from her still naked form. Sakura wound her arms around him and kissed him tenderly. He confined his hands to her cheeks, urging her closer but attempting to champion his willpower at the same time. He had a job to do, he reminded himself. He stepped away from her too quickly and she felt a sliver of confidence lost at the action. 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” she questioned lightheartedly.

“I thought I might complete my duties as a guard,” he frowned, attempting at delicacy, “I did neglect them last night.”

“Curious,” she ran a finger over her bottom lip, suppressing a grin, “I did not feel neglected.”

Sasuke set his jaw tight; he had every desire to shed his fresh clothes and resume his position beside her. She did not cover her breasts, nipples perked from the cool morning air, and though her hands rested between her legs, he could still see her slick opening.

“You are perfect,” the words slipped free before Sasuke could help himself, but he wished to take them back as soon as he heard them. They were too plain, unappreciative, and nowhere near accurately described her. Still, she smiled and her cheeks reddened. Sakura stepped off the bed and crossed the space between them. She placed her hands on his chest, fingers spreading over his vest, as she locked him in her gaze.

“I suppose it would take an alike person to recognize that in someone else,” she murmured.

“Do you think us alike?”

“Very much so," she sobered quickly and added, almost as an afterthought, "Both hindered by obligation. But it is our differences I celebrate, too."

"Sakura," his brow furrowed with the burden of his inquiry, "How do you intend to move forward now?"

"How do you mean?" she appeared genuinely perplexed. 

"What I mean to say is what happens to _us_ now?"

“Well, do you wish to continue,” Sakura paused, fingers twitching against him. Her eyes searched his in an almost frantic manor, “This?”

He wasn’t sure what ‘this’ was, but he was sure he would have to think on it. The consequences if they were found out were startling and seemed to hold more threat in that moment than they had the previous night.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door startled them apart. Sakura scrambled to the dresser to retrieve a formal ensemble while Sasuke hastily grabbed his pack and darted into the hallway, shutting her door behind him. He stood in front of it as the Emperor and Kakashi walked up. A few maids as well as Sakura’s ladies in waiting trailed behind them. Kizashi seemed to want to enter, but Sasuke planted himself like a fortress before them. If he went in then, he would know Sasuke had seen Sakura in an indecent state.

“Good morning, Uzumaki-san,” Kizashi said. Kakashi gave Sasuke a polite nod which he returned. The ladies behind them bowed respectfully.

“Good morning, sir,” Sasuke responded.

“I trust you had no issues last night?”

“No, sir,” Sasuke fisted his hands behind him, blood pounding in his ears from the adrenaline that was rushing through his system.

“Very good,” Kizashi beamed, then leaned close to Sasuke, his voice a melancholy whisper, “We have found more with the tattoo,” he stepped back, raising his voice, “But that will be discussed later. For now, I would like to see my daughter.”

Sasuke nodded, his mind now itching for information of the remaining Akatsuki members that had infiltrated the palace. But his panic returned when he stepped to the side, only to have Sakura fling the door open with a wide smile, dressed in a decorative, pink jūnihitoe.

“Good morning, father,” she was as cheerful as ever, her sweet countenance careful to hide the sins she had committed.

“You appear well,” he stepped inside her room, Kakashi and her ladies following suit, “How are you feeling?”

The door shut behind them and Sasuke missed her response, but he supposed it was not for his ears if he had been left outside. He watched the door for a moment until the maids emerged with buckets of muddled bathwater and moved to toss it outside. Sasuke stepped out of sight of the entryway, catching only bits and pieces of idle conversation between Sakura and her father. A few minutes later the handmaidens returned and removed the drained tub, buckling yet somehow still managing under its weight. Kakashi closed Sakura’s door and soon Sasuke was alone.

He dropped his pack and began to pace the length of the hallway, thoughts wandering to what the Emperor had divulged. How many men had been found out? And information had they revealed?

Sasuke froze, the walls suddenly towering around him, as if they were enclosing upon him. What if that soldier had told other members within his group who Sasuke was? Would the Emperor believe them?

And what would Sakura do when she found out?

Because, it was inevitable, he thought, she was going to find out. It was only a matter of time.

The door opened and Kizashi walked out, pausing to cast a glance at Sasuke.

“Walk with me, Uzumaki-san,” he beckoned him toward the door, “Hatake-san will oversee my daughter for the time being.”

Sasuke nodded and followed the Emperor outside. The clouds had come to cover the sun now and the wind stirred the snow on the ground. He felt a disgusting guilt as he kept behind Kizashi, choking on the secret he now shared with Sakura. The Emperor led him up the path, past the council room and past the barracks to the building of cells beside them. The guards at the entrance unlocked the doors and swung them back, allowing Sasuke and the Emperor passage.

Partitions of stone separated the line of cells that were filled far closer to capacity than Sasuke recalled. A guard was stationed every few feet, but there was not nearly enough to account for every prisoner.

“Sixteen,” the Emperor’s voice cut like steel through the thick air, “That is how many we have found so far.”

Sasuke seethed as his gaze travelled from face to face, though some of them resided farther back in the building and escaped his sight. He had never taken the time to interact with others in his rank, but he recognized more than a few faces that had taken over after his shifts of guarding Sakura. They knew her routine, they knew his routine, and they had been biding their time until the attack. They all regarded Sasuke with a measure of fear and indignation.

“Do you know any of them?” the Emperor questioned, eyes trained on the iron bars.

“No,” Sasuke’s eyes swept over quickly again, but he shook his head. The Emperor lowered his voice and spoke,

“They will not tell me where they are from, nor what they are after. I was hoping you might remember them from Konoha or from a village nearby.”

“No, sir,” Sasuke grimaced, “I’m sorry.”

Kizashi sighed, but gave no outward indication that he was troubled. He maintained his authority in front of their audience.

“They all have the tattoo. For some, it has even been branded into their skin,” another hushed statement, “And not one of them will talk. Yet, there is something even more perplexing.”

“Sir?”

“We had seventeen last night,” Kizashi eyed Sasuke by his peripheral, “One of them took his own life early this morning. We had not even threatened him.”

“He feared something worse than death,” Sasuke mused, keeping his voice low, though his mind raced.

“Perhaps the wrath of whoever he would have to answer to were he caught. What’s more, I fear there may still be some hiding amongst us,” Kizashi frowned and sighed. He turned, back facing the prisoners, but did not walk further, speaking low to Sasuke, “I have always wondered why you have not sought a higher position here, Uzumaki-san, rather than go off to war. You know I think greatly of your family and of you, even more so after what you’ve done for mine. I consult with you in this, because I trust you. If you would like to assume a better post, you need only ask.”

“Thank you, sir,” a lump formed in Sasuke’s throat as he thought of the farmer’s speech in the dining hall; there was indeed a reason Sasuke did not put himself in the spotlight.

“Kakashi-san would be glad for your help, I think,” he added and waited for Sasuke’s response.

“Thank you, sir,” Sasuke’s eyes darted back to the many faces that still watched them religiously, “I will think on it. For now, I feel that I have a duty to Haruno-sama.”

He could not imagine leaving her side after that threat to her life, but he could not deny that the probability of another night like the one they had just shared was a shameful incentive for him as well.

“A duty that I feel is safe in your hands,” Kizashi nodded, clasped him on the shoulder and stepped outside. Sasuke followed him into the brisk air, but kept a safe distance, entirely not too keen to speak further on the subject. However, it seemed the Emperor was content with the silence as he paved ahead to his council room. Snow had begun to fall, crafting a new world around them and Sasuke wondered briefly if Sakura was warm enough in her room. Kizashi paused before the door, “You may return to your post; please send Kakashi-san here, once you have arrived,” he mused for a moment as the guards held open the passage for him, “Please do consider my offer. Once I have dealt with these traitors, once it is safer here, I would be able to find a replacement for you, should you wish it. Perhaps, if you are set on a life on the battlefield, we could talk of you joining your brother as another general.”

Sasuke maintained a difficult stoicism as he regarded the Emperor. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that offer. A position as general would be an honor most would kill for, but Sasuke did not concern himself with titles. While he wished to aide Naruto, he would be glad to do so as a faceless soldier. And what’s more, an elevated position at the palace would mean distance from Sakura. He knew it would be a smart decision, but if that was the case then he did not want to be smart.

“Thank you, sir,” he waited for the Emperor to enter the council room before proceeding to Sakura’s quarters.

* * *

“Haruno-sama,” Hinata piped up suddenly, through the chatter of the other ladies, “That guard outside your door this morning, he is Naruto-kun’s brother, no?”

“He is,” Sakura nodded.

“He is the _other_ Uzumaki,” Tenten laughed.

“The _attractive_ Uzumaki,” Ino grinned like a predator.

“Do you think so?” Sakura set down the book in front of her, marking the page.

“Don’t you?” Ino asked and Sakura bristled, but she did not see it. Kakashi remained silent on the other side of the room, seeming to either not hear them or not care to be a part of their conversation, “If I had a man like him watching over me day and night, I might be compelled by certain inescapable urges.”

“I agree,” Karin simpered as she continued to weave her needle through the fabric in her lap.

Sakura huffed quietly and looked to the window. Where was he?

“I am biased,” Tenten spoke, shaking her head and focusing her attention to the scroll in her hands, “And loyal to my husband.”

“Must have been nice to find a man who entertains your irrational fascination with weaponry,” Ino jeered, causing Tenten to scowl at her. Sakura picked up her book and began reading once more.

“Do not be jealous because you will be the only spinster among us,” Tenten snorted derisively.

“If Ino-chan remains unmarried, then I fear I will be subjected to the same fate,” Karin said with a laugh.

“He must marry one of us,” Ino jested and Sakura frowned; she had read the same passage multiple times and was yet to turn the page.

“Then we shall have a bet,” Karin said, “Whomever he proposes to will be crowned champion.”

“And what will be _my_ prize?” Ino giggled, “Aside from his hand?”

“You mean _my_ prize?” Karin said brusquely.

“You bicker like children,” Sakura slammed her book shut, “Do you really think him to be interested in you if you speak of him so?”

The room quieted and all eyes had snapped to her. Sakura’s cheeks reddened and she lowered her head in embarrassment. The silence was palpable and coiled around her like a manacle.

“Haruno-sama, are you all right?” Hinata came to sit beside Sakura as she placed a hand to her forehead.

“Forgive me,” Sakura said quietly, “I am not well. I need to rest.”

“Would you like us to leave?” Tenten asked.

“Perhaps that would be best,” Sakura said and chewed her lip. Above all, in that moment, she felt utterly ashamed that she had let her jealousy get the better of her like that.

“Lee-san was hoping to come see you today,” Ino spoke tentatively, “Should we tell him you are not well?”

“If you would be so kind,” Sakura’s voice became weak, breaking as her thoughts were clouded with memories of her sordid affair with Sasuke. She felt a satisfaction filter through her that they would never know him the way she did. She figured her features must have been bright red then, after all, she could feel the heat rising beneath her skin.

There was a knock at the door and Kakashi answered it, stepping to the side to let Sasuke in. The whole room dropped into a disquieting silence once again. Sasuke felt it, but he had no idea what it meant. All he saw was the scarlet of Sakura’s cheeks and glowered. Had she been upset?

“The Emperor requires you in the council room,” he looked briefly to Kakashi who nodded and took his leave. All of a sudden, her ladies seemed to scurry to their feet, muttering condolences and words that Sasuke did not care to catch. They left in a flurry of bright fabrics and dizzied thoughts, leaving Sakura alone with him, “Are you all right?”

“It is nothing,” she shook her head, feeling very silly for her reaction.

“Normally, I am the one to tell you that,” he walked toward her slowly, but without caution.

“Hm,” Sakura laughed, but looked away from his percipient gaze, “Well, this time it is the truth. I was being a fool.”

“I do not believe you could ever do such a thing,” he came to stand before her, looking down as she sat on her bed.

“You flatter me too much, Sasuke-kun,” finally she peered up at him, glassy green eyes permeated by a troubled haze.

“I do not think I flatter you enough,” he smirked, “Or not as much as you are used to.”

“Empty words beget empty affections,” she simpered, “Do you not feel genuinely toward me?”

Sasuke cupped her chin and took her lips with his roughly, commanding the passion they shared the night before to the surface.

“I feel too deeply and too truly for you,” his voice wavered, but his resolve grew stronger the longer he kept her gaze. She leaned up to kiss him once more, lingering in her chaste endeavor.

“You know my ladies are infatuated with you," she spoke coyly.

"Are they?" Sasuke's brows rose slightly, more in surprise than in interest. She laid back on the sheets, pulling him down on top of her. His body was a welcome weight on hers. She nodded, “And what about you?”

“I am entirely smitten,” her voice, though husky, lilted with a teasing tone. Sasuke hid his smile in their kiss. His heart beat at a quickened pace, but his mind became concerned with how readily his happiness now seemed to depend upon her feelings for him. He closed his eyes to his thoughts and felt her hand traveling between them. She rubbed his length through the placket of his pants and felt him harden as she repeated the motion, “And I have seen far more than they.”

“How greedy you are, Sakura- _hime_ ,” Sasuke smirked against her lips, groaning when she gave him a light squeeze.

“I will not deny the truth,” she whispered and pressed her mouth to his, grazing his lips with her teeth. Then, a knock resounded through their intimate space, emanating from the front door. Sasuke growled and stepped off the bed in a swift motion. Sakura gave a frustrated groan, “Send them away, Sasuke-kun.”

He stalked over to her door, yanking it open, then answered the ceaseless knocking of the main entryway. Lee-san had his fist raised, ready to pound against the door again. He lowered it awkwardly, no doubt expecting Sakura to have answered him. Lee attempted to peer behind Sasuke’s broad frame, but he simply moved into Lee’s field of vision more directly.

“Is Haruno-sama available?”

“She asks that she not be disturbed at the moment,” Sasuke said curtly.

“I heard she was not feeling well, so I thought I should come - ,”

“She is still recovering,” Sasuke began to close the door on him, but Lee placed his hand on the wood.

“Could you give her this?” he held out a folded parchment and Sasuke had to bite back a scowl when he began to guess what the contents were, “And tell her I wish to see her as soon as she is feeling better?”

“Very well,” Sasuke snatched the letter from Lee’s hand and shut the door, locking it behind him. He returned to Sakura’s room, being sure to make use of the lock there, too, and found her sitting upon the bed, naked. Her hair fell in a curtain around her, covering her breasts, and her clothes had been discarded in a messy pile on the floor. She had her legs crossed, dainty hands placed on top of each other at her knees. Sasuke fisted his hands, unintentionally crumpling Lee’s letter as he drank in her ethereal figure.

“Who was it?” she asked innocently, as though she weren’t seeking to entice him at that very moment.

“Lee-san,” Sasuke spoke through gritted teeth.

“And what is that?” she nodded and pointed a slender finger to the parchment he held.

“For you,” he extended his arm to her and she got to her feet, padding softly toward him. He felt himself silenced as he watched her hips sway. When she took the letter from him, he found his voice once more, “He wishes to see you when you feel well again. Are you ill?”

“No,” she shook her head and kept her eyes on him, though she clutched the paper tightly. She spoke in a furious whisper, “I sent away my ladies because they spoke of you as a prize to be won and it irritated me in a way I can not explain. I did say to you, I was being foolish. They told Lee-san I was not well so that he would _not_ visit me, and yet,” she trailed off, giving a flippant gesture to the door.

“A prize?” he smirked, “If I am to be anyone’s prize, it will be yours,” he ensnared her with an arm at her waist, “I am your concubine and no one else’s.”

“Do not be so silly, Sasuke-kun,” she sobered for a moment, “I do not think so little of you.”

“That you think anything at all of me is something I will be grateful for eternally,” he said with earnest.

“Sasuke-kun,” she softened and wrapped her arms around him, releasing the letter to fall to the ground. He held her tightly, tucking his vulnerable visage in the crook of her neck. He did not understand why or how he could be so candid with her, but he could not deny the beauty of the freedom it awarded him. He knew he meant every word, but he could not discern where they had come from.

Though, he thought of his parents, of the love they shared and how the subtle nuances that had woven them together so tautly seemed to reflect in his relationship with Sakura. Still, there were those secrets he had formed into the bricks that made up the barriers he put between them. And the reality of his concealed past made him pull her that much closer, made him hold her that much tighter, and caused him to kiss her with that much more desperation.

There was a flame that burned within her, a beacon she held that called only to him. And he came to it, wanted to bask in the light and the warmth she held. He wanted her covetous fire, wanted to be consumed by its incendiary passion and left to ashes in its wake, because he knew that there would be no one after her. Until then he was stoking the blaze as long as he could, knowing that it could be snuffed out at any moment.


	10. Chapter 10

The letter lay forgotten on the floor, buried beneath Sasuke’s discarded uniform. Sakura was pressed against the wall in a corner of her room, legs hoisted around Sasuke's waist. Beside them, the freshly lit fire crackled. His tongue laved at the crook of her neck, teeth biting to the point that she cried out in pain, only to moan at the friction created by his hardened member being ground against her drenched core. She shifted her hips, feeling the blunt head of his cock striking her entrance. His biceps flexed under the savage hold of her fingers and he groaned against her skin peppered with his passionate bruising.

Sasuke kissed a trail along her jaw up to her lips where he coaxed her into an ardent lock. He moved with false thrusts, causing her to clench at the anticipation of his intrusion. Although, deep down, she knew it was useless. They could only torture themselves with their shared dream; it was a fabricated promise. She knew that if she gave herself to him she would be deemed useless by her future husband, soiled completely by Sasuke’s affection. For now, she could only pretend that he had not already stained her heart.

His hands moved to cup her behind and her neck as he walked them over to her bed. He dropped her on top of the sheets and she squealed. They both shared a laugh before his mouth descended on hers again. Then, he moved down her body, suspending his path only to mark her with a new purple blemish. Finally, his tongue swiped her sex and her fingers flew to his hair, pulling him closer as she moaned her pleasure.

“So eager,” his breath felt cool at the heat of her opening, “So wet,” he worried her clit between his teeth softly and she arched into the touch, “All for me,” his voice rivaled the darkness of the night that fell around them. They had closed her curtains and soon he would not be able to see the flush that graced her skin.

“Mmm, Sasuke-kun,” she purred, peering down at him buried between her legs. He sucked her nub between his lips and she keened, bucking against him.

“Desperate little thing,” he cooed and slipped a finger inside of her, pressing the pad against her upper walls. She sobbed, eyes screwing shut as arousal flared to life within her, but in the back of her mind she noted that she would return his favor of sweet torture one day. She felt the prodding of a second finger and bit her lip to silence her bittersweet cries as he worked it in. He stretched her open gradually, to which she felt a gratifying burn and a satisfaction to the empty ache.

“Oohh, Sasuke-kun!” his name slipped out of her as though it were pulled by a string. His tongue flicked her swollen nub as his fingers pumped rhythmically in and out of her drenched core. Sakura tensed, muscles pulling taut as she found herself at the base of her release; Sasuke was working her up to the top, guiding her. 

“I imagine your tight cunt would feel like heaven around me,” his voice was dripping with want and he reached his free hand up to her breasts to pinch her nipple. She squealed in surprise and clenched around his fingers at his words. They had caused her heart to skip and her already dizzied mind to become further muddled by the pleasure he inflicted upon her. Sasuke was driven by the depraved thoughts playing through his mind. He wished to drive his cock so deeply within her that she felt every inch of his length and not one iota of her hot passage was hidden from him. He twisted his fingers inside of her, creating a unique friction that had her trembling uncontrollably. Spurred by her licentious moans, he pushed his digits further within her. She choked on a cry as she felt a slight pinch, but it was quickly whited out by the feel of his continued movements.

Very fast and without much warning, she felt herself at the precipice of her release but she did not want it to end so soon, not yet.

“I want you to come for me,” his voice was a compelling force, but she whined and shook her head as he curled his fingers sharply within her. He grazed her upper walls once again and her back flew off the bed, nails digging into his shoulders for stability. He groaned against her, the soft vibrations pushing her over into the bottomlessness of her orgasm. She finished with a long cry of his name, bucking her hips so fiercely that he had to hold her down as he continued to lick and thrust into her.

He brought her back slowly, fingers beginning to dawdle and tongue subduing to softer bats at her clit. When she had regained some of her consciousness, she pulled him up by the hold she had on his arms. He twisted his wet fingers in the sheets as he held himself above her, her lips attacking his in a feverish move.

“I want you inside of me,” she whispered as they caught their breath. He groaned at her admission, forehead falling to rest at her shoulder. Her legs skimmed his as she lifted her hips to grind her sex against his member, “I have never desired something so much.”

“Sakura,” his hand was at the back of her neck, clutching tighter when she began to caress his length with her delicate fingers. His words became strained by his struggle for control, “I would like nothing more, but you are not thinking correctly.”

“I have not thought correctly for a long time, then,” she hooked her leg around him and urged him to flip onto his back. He obeyed, but found a steady hold on her thighs to keep her still. Though night was now upon them, his eyes had adjusted slightly and he could somewhat make out the ardor of her gaze. Sweat had stuck her hair to her face and her chest swelled with each hurdling breath. She appeared a feral creature atop her prey. A scenario he was all too pleased to be a part of and one that caused him to throb so persistently against the wet heat of her entrance, “Do you desire me like this?”

“Yes,” his throat was thick and his grip was tight. He could imagine her riding him, merciless in her search for completion. She took his hands in hers, prying them from her waist so that she could slide down his body, breasts flush to his skin. She stopped eye level to his turgid cock, fingers circling the base, “You are even more beautiful in the throes of ecstasy.”

“Hm,” she pressed her lips to the underside of his member, along the line of his pulse. He hissed, head falling back to the pillows. “Your syntax rivals that of my suitors,” her tone became humorous, “I’ve told you, Sasuke-kun, you should try your hand at poetry.”

Before he could retort, she licked a smooth line up the side of his cock, cutting his words into an unrestrained groan. He fumbled with the sheets at his sides, scrambling for a semblance of control when she took him partially through her parted lips. She pushed him further into the hot cave of her mouth and swallowed against him when the head of his length hit the back of her throat. Sasuke gave a profane exhale and thrust his hips upwards. He sank deeper which caused Sakura to choke on his thickness. She pulled back, a string of spit following her. Through half-lidded, devious eyes he watched her eagerly envelop his throbbing cock once more.

She hummed his name around his width and it reverberated through him, pleasure coiling stiffly in his abdomen. Her eyes shimmered with a frantic lust and it struck him with an electrifying shock that buzzed through his body, straight to his heart. She had taken his length almost to the base and still she looked at him as though she were insatiable.

“Fuck, Sakura,” she moaned at the desperation in his voice and rather than revel in the feeling it created, a distant, entombed thought rose to the surface. Would she do this for her husband when she married? She took him to the base, choking briefly before inhaling sharply through her nose and swallowing against his throbbing flesh again. He pulled air through his teeth and shut his eyes. How could she do that? How could he let her? Pleasure spiked through his blood and he felt himself approaching his own release. She sucked harshly and wrenched him through his own razing orgasm, whiting out his tempestuous thoughts.

* * *

“It is not safe for us to meet like this,” Kabuto said as he was hurried through the door.

“Quiet,” Sasori hissed, pacing the length of one of the rooms in the barracks, “We have been left vulnerable now.”

“We should leave, while we still can,” Deidara snapped, “We may not have the mark, but we are dead if we stay. Orochimaru will find out they have failed, it is only a matter of time.”

“Which is the reason we must move now,” Sasori persisted, "We will return to Orochimaru with the others. For that our initiation will surely be completed."

"And how will you tell him we were not at our posts that night? It is because of us that they failed in the first place!" Kabuto bellowed. Sasori hushed him sharply, striding within a breadth's space of him.

"It was due to your own impishness that we were not there to help them take the girl," Sasori's eyes were darkened by rage, "I leave it with you to tell Orochimaru why we were not there for assistance. Or, you may tell him that we were betrayed by those two. It is our word against those of slain men."

Kabuto considered him for a moment, caught between the fear of Orochimaru's wrath and the anxiety of being a rat in a maze.

"And if he believes us?" Deidara questions, "What then?"

"We will become members of the Akatsuki," Sasori swept his eyes over his fellow soldiers, "And we will bring upon the downfall of the Haruno empire."

* * *

“What did my father want?” Sakura’s fingers inched across his chest, her legs tangled with his.

"They have found more spies," Sasuke’s hand at her waist tightened considerably and he felt her tense beneath it.

"More?" her throat ran dry.

"More than I thought," he admitted, eyes tracing the soft lines created in her features from her concerned frown and scrunched brow. He let his fingers run up the curve of her torso and the slope of her shoulder to caress her cheek, "I do not want you to worry."

"I am not worried, Sasuke-kun," she put her hand over his, succumbing to tremors, "I am terrified. I do not think you incapable of protecting me, but what if they kill you?"

"Then I hope it will have been to save your life," he said softly. Her eyes began to tear and so she shut them. Sakura took a deep, shuddering breath and shook her head.

"Please, do not say such a thing," her voice broke as a tear rolled down her cheek, but he was quick to wipe it away. He took her in his arms and urged her against him, until she went slack, "That is not something I want to endure."

He kissed the crown of her head, at a loss for words. She curled into him, clutching his back with desperate fingers. The feelings she held for him were palpable in that moment and he relished in the glow that it enveloped him in. The contact of her skin against his, the sweat drying from their previous tryst - the intimacy of it all put Sasuke in a dizzying high.

“Just the same, I do not wish to see you succumb to such a fate,” he spoke softly.

“My life is not more important than yours,” she whispered against him.

“More is at stake,” Sasuke argued, “The weight of a nation does not sit on my shoulders.”

Sakura pushed away from him then, donning her robe. She stalked to the crackling fire to stare into its depths.

“What good will my life be if you are not in it?” he could barely hear her admission, but he did not move closer, only sat up sharply to watch her.

“Some day you will have to know,” he leaned against the headboard, clenching and unclenching his hands tightly, rhythmically. Her shoulders bunched and her head lowered. She was teeming with fury and could not control the harsh snap of her tone.

“Why do you seek to remind me of these things? You say you do not want me miserable, but this does make me miserable,” she turned to face him, “As does your secrecy from me. I have attempted to be passive, but it is difficult, Sasuke-kun.”

A heavy silence fell between them and the space from where he sat to where she stood seemed an expanse of endless proportion. The room was becoming darker, the fire offering an ambient light that fell very starkly against the animosity they exuded.

“Your father has offered me a position of higher ranking as soon as he finds another to look after you,” Sasuke’s eyes dropped to the wrinkled sheets of her bed.

“Will you accept his offer?” Sakura did not hide her crushing disappointment, the storm of anger within her calming to a gentle swell.

“I do not desire to be so far from you,” Sasuke could not meet her eyes, “Not at this time.”

“Just now, then?” she mused.

“I do not know if I ever will,” he admitted, dropping his head into his hands. He had set himself on a treacherous road that wound through his heart, igniting it to life as he’d never known to be possible. There was little he could do to keep him from getting lost on that twisting path, but he began to think of those secrets he kept from her as the few pieces of himself he still had. The more he spoke with her, shared with her, divulged in her, he knew, the more unfathomable it would become to extricate himself from her and his heart from her grasp.

“Would you tell me your secrets if I were a different person?”

“Who?” Sasuke looked up to her enjoining eyes.

“Who would it take for you to confide in me?” she had come to cross her arms over her chest, guarding her heart from whatever words he might expel.

“There is nothing wrong with you, Sakura,” he said quietly, “It is only a circumstance of ‘what,’ not a matter of who.”

“How can I change that circumstance?”

“The past is not so easily altered,” Sasuke frowned and her gaze fell. He saw her fingers tighten around her arms, pinching the silk that covered them.

“Perhaps you should stay in your own room tonight,” Sakura turned back to the fire, hiding her face.

“Very well,” she heard him shuffle off the bed, heard his footsteps as he picked up the discarded articles of his clothes and, finally, heard her door shut behind him. Sakura placed a hand on the mantle of the fireplace to steady herself. Her body quaked in the aftermath of his absence, a strange vulnerability overcoming her. It had not taken but a night for her to expect his arms around her as she fell to sleep. She had come to know the patterns of his breath, his movements as he slept. She turned to her bed, knowing it would feel quite empty that night.

* * *

Sasuke shucked on a pair of cotton pants and sat on the edge of his bed. He fingered the crumpled paper she hadn’t known he’d swiped off the floor. Despite his dubious feelings on whether or not he should read the letter, he opened the parchment, curiosity winning out.

_My dearest Sakura-chan,_

_I understand you have been feeling less than favorable recently, even before this unfortunate event with the Akatsuki. I know you were secluding yourself in your chambers and not calling on your ladies. I can only imagine how that night only added to your discomfort. I want you to know I think of you every evening, especially if I have not seen you in the day. It is because I can not imagine my life without you. The sun does not rise in your absence and I fear for every moment I can not be with you. I apologize for how crass and obtrusive my feelings might seem, but I feel compelled to be honest with you._

_My heart is yours to keep, but I do hope my sentiments are shared, for you are the only one I wish to call mine. Your laughter haunts me to the point I feel delirious if I do not hear it. The sound of my name off of your lips is the sweetest gift you could bestow my ears. I hope it is a gift I can continue to receive. Until I can hear the lullaby of your voice, I entreat you to keep me in your thoughts as I do you. And until I can see your stunning beauty again, know that I am counting the seconds._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Lee-san_

Though Sasuke could never imagine putting pen to paper with such eloquence, the passion behind those words mirrored his own. Was he just like one of her suitors? Was he no different from the noblemen that sought after her affections? Sasuke tore the paper down the middle, at the sides, wherever he could until it was shredded at his feet, a dissident rage flowing through him. Then, he blanched, fingers shaking with his subsiding fury. What had he done? How could he explain this to Sakura? He frowned and bent to his knees on the floor, scooping up the pitiful scraps, then walking to the fireplace to set them on the mantle.

* * *

_Stop._

_Please, stop._

_She opened her mouth, but nothing passed through and all that she felt was a scorching heat, pain that demolished every nerve in her body until she was numb._

_Stop it._

_The pain wasn’t happening to her, but she could feel it, experience it in a way that he couldn’t._

_Don’t hurt him._

_Her thoughts could not stall the sword that struck Sasuke through and through. Blood gurgled up his throat and from his lips; he fell limply to the floor._

Sakura groped the space beside her, tears hot on her cheeks, but came up empty. She whimpered and clutched the sheets as sobs wracked her fragile frame. She felt a chasm opening in her chest, a phantom sense of despair at the prospect of his death. A desperate pull wound at her heart and tugged her sharply from her bed. She left her room and padded to his door. Hesitant, she clutched the knob and turned it slowly, finding it unlocked. It never occurred to her, as it might have before they grew to be so intimate, that she would perhaps burden him with her thoughts; her only concern was to seek out his comfort.

“Sakura?” he heard the door creak shut and turned on his back, opening his eyes. She sobbed, but did not answer as she walked to the bed and laid beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, fingers reaching up to swipe at her tears, “What is it?”

She could only shake her head, crying because of the fear her nightmare had left in her and crying because of the relief his touch gave her. He kissed her cheek, and clutched the back of her robe tightly. She responded by catching his lips with hers, probing his mouth with a forceful passion.

“I dreamt you had died before me,” her voice was a dulcet whimper when they pulled away, “I can not stand the thought.”

“Is it the Akatsuki?”

“Yes,” she nodded and buried her face in his neck, wetting the skin there with her persistent tears, “But in these dreams I fear not for my life; I fear for yours.”

Sasuke sighed heavily, his heart constricting in his chest. He slipped his hand beneath the fabric of her robe to feel her skin against his. He roamed her curves with soothing strokes until her chest ceased its shudders.

“You do not need to fear for me,” Sasuke’s voice became a low growl, “These men will pay for their allegiance and it will all be over then. Do not think on it any more.”

“How can I not, Sasuke-kun?” she whimpered, “I do not feel safe in my own bed. I do not feel safe when I am not with you.”

“Then do not stray from me,” he urged her, against his better judgement and for his own selfish needs.

“I feel so useless,” her words were whispered on an exhale, “I desire the skills you possess; I wish I could defend myself.”

“That is not your duty,” he responded, hands settling at her lower back in a protective grip, “But it is my pleasure.”

“Am I to rely on you for the rest of my life then?” he was startled by how opposed she sounded to the idea. He was not sure where they would be in the years to come, or even in the next day, but her question had him thinking on it.

“Would you not like to?”

“I would like to feel safe when I am alone,” she lifted her head to peer at him in the darkness, “I would like to have confidence in myself,” she swallowed audibly, “I would like to know how to use a weapon. Would you teach me?”

He scowled, ready to argue the safety of what she requested of him, but once more he found her candor causing him to soften. Once more her passing thoughts captivated his attention. Her passion for pastimes not indicative of her title stirred a familiar fascination within him. He was certain she would never cease to surprise him.

“Very well,” he conceded, shifting so that his leg slid between hers, “But for tonight, let me take care of you.”

She smiled meekly, eyes still wet with tears, but she kissed him with immeasurable enthusiasm to which he sought to match.

* * *

A veritable blizzard had come to life outside the building that held the prisoners, but the guards before the doors did not budge, except when Sasori approached them. They stiffened as though they were addressing a higher officer.

“Tomorrow night,” he said, “That is when we make our move.”

“How?” one of the guards asked. Sasori held out a folded piece of parchment.

“This is our only chance for redemption,” his words were more brittle than the air around them, “Do not fail Orochimaru a second time.”


	11. Chapter 11

_He could feel her nails digging in to his arms, muscles flexing as he kept a tight grip on her waist. He was urging her on, encouraging the movements of her hips. The tight, wet heat of her cunt clamped down on his member and he felt a groan rumble in his chest. Her hair, long and unkempt, fell around her body, tickling his abdomen when she leaned forward to angle him deeper within her. She moaned, hips working, possessed by her need for him. Her lips found his, teeth biting so hard she almost broke the skin. Her desire was unapologetic but he was not one to complain. He would accept every bit of pain and every ounce of pleasure she bestowed on him._

_She pulled back, panting harshly, fingers biting into his pectorals. Her eyes were alight with a roguish impulse._

_“It feels so good,” she yelped when he thrusted up, striking the edge of her cervix, “Don’t stop!”_

_Never, he thought. He repeated the motion and another cry parted her lips,_

_“Ah, Lee-kun!”_

Sasuke startled awake, nearly yanking his arm out from underneath Sakura. She was nestled against him, head on his chest and arm over his waist, still sleeping peacefully. He heaved a dense sigh and tightened his hold around her. He shifted his weight, raising his other hand to her upper back, and kissed the top of her head. He breathed in the floral scent of her hair, the oils that she used. She exuded warmth and comforted his frayed nerves. His guilt over the letter pressed upon him, but he found that in his own selfishness, he would destroy it again, burn it even, if given the chance. He was not ready to let go of her, but Lee's epistle had proved he was not the only one who desired her in such a way. He thought that his feelings for Sakura were unique, but perhaps he did pine for her like a pathetic child.

"Sasuke-kun," her nails raked down his muscular torso, lids fluttering open, "Is something wrong?"

"Go back to sleep," he kissed her forehead and stroked the tangled strands of her hair, "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You did not wake me," she whispered, a sly grin on her lips as she slid her thigh along his turgid member, "This did."

"Hn," Sasuke laughed low, a rumble in his throat, but he hid his eyes, turning them to the ceiling so that she would not see the truth that lay there.

"What is it, Sasuke-kun?"

"It is not important. Go to sleep."

"Your refutation only aids my suspicion. Do you realize that?" she propped herself up on one of his pillows to see his face properly. 

"I did not," Sasuke smirked, "I thought you were always suspicious of me."

“Only because you give me reason to be,” she said solemnly. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lips, but she put her hand to his chest and pushed him back gently, “I am too upset to sleep, Sasuke-kun.”

“Then we will not sleep,” he stroked the back of her hand with his knuckles. She considered him briefly.

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything,” she shook her head, exasperated, “Tell me something that is genuine and true. We are so close and yet I still feel you are very far from me, as though you are not real,” she fell to a soft whisper, “At times, I think I have imagined you.”

Her words struck his heart fast with a devastating accuracy. Sakura’s gaze dropped and she chewed her lip as she waited for his answer. But silence was all that greeted her; it swelled within the space around them, smothering her. Sakura pushed off the bed, but Sasuke caught her wrist.

“Do not leave,” his words leaked the desperation he felt. He did not know what to say to her, but he did not want to allow that distance between them yet again, “I can not stand it, knowing that I am the cause of your pain and yet am unable to assuage it,” he looked away from her, swallowing thickly, but kept a steady hand, “It is a conscious choice to keep parts of myself from you and it is a principal I must abide by.”

He felt her tense beneath the pads of his fingers, felt her pulse quicken at her wrist.

“Does your brother know your secrets?”

“Yes,” Sasuke hoped that admission alone would solicit her conviction. Tentatively, his eyes met hers, but she kept a guarded expression.

“Do you trust me?”

Sasuke would have retorted that it did not have anything to do with trust, but he knew that to be a lie. The sad truth was: he could not allow himself the luxury of putting so much faith in her. He knew how she would react; she would abhor him for his lineage. . . And would certainly turn him in to the Emperor for it, as well. His silence spoke for him and she ripped herself away, getting to her feet. He sat up, ready to follow her until she fixed him with her gaze.

“Sakura, - ”

"No, Sasuke-kun," she glowered at him from beside the bed, “I am sympathetic to your troubles and I understand that all pasts carry secrets, but do you think you can keep them to yourself your whole life? Do you feel control when you keep people at such a distance?” she did not wait for him to answer, barreling through the words before she could think, “Will you keep these things from your wife?”

Sasuke was silenced, though his response hung on his tongue, awaiting the moment he would let it loose. Her eyes flashed with sorrow and, oddly enough, fear. Her hands were fists, tightening as she shook with the tempest of her emotions.

“Well?” she prompted, even though she feared his reply.

“I will not take a wife,” he grit his teeth, hissing through them, “I do not wish to.”

Sakura was surprised not by the relief she was overcome with, but by the tentative despair that worked its way within her. Would he not marry because of her? Or was it because - 

“There is no one that so enraptures me as you do,” he whispered, as if in defeat, “You excite me in ways that captivate my thoughts. My heart races for you and I crave your body against mine. It is not because I need release, it is because merely having you beside me - I am at peace in those moments,” he swallowed, struggling to keep his eyes on her probing stare, “I fear the day that you will take a husband, because I know it will be the end of me.”

Sakura fell against the wall, her legs giving out under the weight of his words. A long, heavy silence fell between them. Sasuke’s guilt for loving her mingled with his deception and congealed in his throat. His admittance fell like bricks off his tongue,

“I read Lee-san’s letter,” he hid his eyes in shame, but Sakura was perplexed; she did not think he should be embarrassed by such an unimportant act. Of course he was curious, and there was nothing wrong with that. Nonetheless, she felt he was hiding something else and it prompted her to dig deeper.  
“What did you think of it?” her throat felt dry, words scratching against her esophagus.

“I was disgusted with it,” Sasuke spat, “We are too similar for my liking; he feels for you the way I do.”

“He does not,” she shook her head slowly, “I think that is impossible,” her heart fluttered, mind racing, and head light, “Where is it?”

“What?”

“The letter,” she clarified, “Where is it?”

Sasuke’s eyes flickered to the mantle above the fire, then to her. He slipped out of the bed, abdomen clenched taut as he walked, disgraced, to the fireplace. He swept the tattered pieces of Lee’s heart into his hand and brought them to Sakura. Taking hold of her wrist, he set the fragments with immense care into her hand. Her eyes dropped to her open palm, then shot up to his morose countenance. She slapped him, hand stinging with the ferocity she had placed behind the action. He took a step back from her.

“How dare you?!” her voice trembled with anger, fist closing around the shredded letter, “What gives you the right to do such a thing?!” he shook his head, the words vanishing from him, “Do you think you can control me in this manner? Do you seek to take and take and take from me until I have nothing left?! You cannot keep me to yourself when I can not keep you in the same way!” Sakura began to weep, turning into the wall, it being the only foundation she felt safe with in that moment, “You have my heart and my body - Lee-san will never possess me in these ways - what more could you possibly desire?! Is that not enough for you?!” her broken voice dropped to a whisper, “To know that you own me so completely?”

Sasuke frowned acutely; he was aching to approach her, to garner some sense of comfort from her and for her.

“I can not control how they feel for you, nor how you feel for me,” he drew in a sharp breath, “You have no idea how greatly that scares me,” she shut her eyes to the wall, but her ears were attentive to his spoken thoughts. He began to walk toward her, reaching his itching fingers out to clasp her shoulder. She turned at his behest, eyes fluttering open to look at him. Her lip trembled as she faced the wide, endless black of his gaze. Then, he kneeled at her feet, hands dropping to his sides, shoulders slumped, chest expanding with the swell of his breath. She watched him, expression alleviating as his did the same, “And I know one day you will not be mine.”

His fingers reached out to touch her calf, slipping beneath her robe and skimming along her flesh. She shivered as he went higher, goosebumps following his fingers. He squeezed her hip and ran his hand over her stomach, thumbing the underside of her breast. She arched off the wall, urging into his hold, letting the remnants of Lee’s note fall to the floor. He took her movement as invitation and loosened her silk enough to press his lips against her abdomen.His teeth bit down and he began to suck, bruising her tender skin. Her hands flew to his neck, winding around him, knotting her fingers in his hair. He wrapped his arms around her as she was wracked with roughened sobs.

“I do not wish to know a life without you in it,” Sasuke’s voice was hoarse, scrapped by emotion, “But I see it in my thoughts and in my dreams. It is so clear that I know it can not be far off. Still, I wish for you every moment of every one of my days,” his eyes were boundless, filled to no foreseeable capacity with the passion he kept only for her, “I hope no one will ever possess your heart as I do, if I do, but I know there are things I can never have with you and that is my undoing.”

Sakura’s fingers quivered greatly as she was caught in his entrancing gaze. She shuddered under the vigor that lay there, no longer repressed by his corrupted control. He was hers, if she so desired. And she did, Kami, she did.

“I love you,” her words bubbled up, spilling over her lips, “I am _in love_ with you. I am certain of it.”

Their eyes locked briefly before Sasuke shot to his feet and took her lips with his. She clambered for a steady hold on him as he commandeered their ardor, steering them to the bed. They fell back on the sheets, hands flying everywhere, pulling at cloth to find the contact they craved. They parted for a breath, but he dove to her neck, drawing her skin into his mouth to suck harshly. Her fingers dug into his back, raking over his shoulder blades and the sinew of his muscles as she moaned. Her mind was becoming clouded, but, even still through the haze of arousal he brewed within her, something flared to the surface.

“Sasuke-kun,” he did not answer her, mouth traveling lower to pull a stiffened nipple between his lips. He was intent on ravaging her, razing her with a pleasure that imprinted him upon her very soul; she cried out for him. His tongue left a warm, wet trail on her skin as he slipped lower. He kissed her hipbone, leaving his lips there for a long second. She reached for him then, “I need something, Sasuke-kun,” her fingers stroked his cheek, the reddening of his skin beginning to fade, “I need something real,” her cunt ached with him so close, but the longer she looked into his eyes, the more she found herself desperate for the truth, “I do not want you to lie to me when everyone else already does so.”

Sasuke sighed, a defeated sound she did not know him capable of making. He kneeled on the floor between her legs, hands resting at her hips.

“I do not want you to know the truth about me,” his breath was hot against her thigh.

“Then, I cannot do this,” she shook her head and sat up quickly. She pulled him up by his chin, lips hovering over his, “I cannot do this with you, Sasuke-kun,” she kissed him deeply, passionately, and parted with a frown, “When you are ready to be honest with me, then I will be here, waiting for you.”

Sakura turned, slipping out of his arms as tears slid over her cheeks. She took up her sash, tying her robe closed, and walked to the entryway. Sasuke pushed off the bed, coming to his feet, and watched as she stopped at the door, fingers trembling as she tried to clutch the nob, but she failed to find her grip. Her fingers continued to slip over the cool metal.

Finally, she paused, placing her hand against the door as she inhaled shuddering breaths. She did not want to leave, did not want to suffer as she struggled against the threads that tied them together. She knew she would fall apart as soon as she left that room. And if she fell apart, she wanted it to be in his arms.

But Sasuke did not know that, all he saw was her back to him, and he panicked,

“I lost everything that night,” he blurted out. His heart raced and he tried to steady himself with a deep breath, “When the Akatsuki attacked Konoha, I lost my family,” his words were strained against the lump in his throat, “I can not lose you, too.”

Keeping her hand against the door, Sakura turned to look at him with befuddled eyes.

“What are you talking about, Sasuke-kun?”

“They came to my village first,” he sounded so lost, so much like an animal wounded; and she the vicious hunter, “They burned down our homes. They killed the elders and enslaved the children,” Sasuke winced and shut his eyes for a moment. His whole body tensed, then he exhaled, looking to her once more, “Those pyres could be seen from miles away and the Hokage did nothing,” his voice dropped, darkened as memories obscured his onyx orbs, “I lost my entire clan that night.”

“Sasuke,” her breath caught in her throat as something sickening prickled at the nape of her neck. She felt suddenly as though their roles had been reversed; she now the prey backed into a corner, vein opened for him to feast upon, “You are an Uchiha?”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak so he nodded in a movement almost imperceptible, but she was watching him closely. She choked on a breath and on a sob, fumbling for the brass handle. He shut his eyes when she yanked open the door and flinched when it slammed.

Sakura could not quell the anger that boiled to life in her stomach as she rushed to her room. She clutched her chest as she slammed her door shut. Her breath came in sharp and fast, nerves thrumming with unbridled terror.

An Uchiha. Within the walls of the palace.

She wasn’t safe. She needed to alert somebody, another guard, her father - someone. She turned the lock on her door, even though she knew he had been given a key. A key that was meant for her security, but one that had been put in the hands of an Uchiha. Her stomach churned as she considered that thought; she wasn’t sure if he _was_ an Uchiha. . . Or if he was just Sasuke.

Which man had she just professed her love to? Which man held her the heart he had just broken?

It was impossible to tell.

As she pondered that, she realized that even though she had a seething hatred for him in the moment, there was a feeling curled deep within her that she could not shake. While she felt the severity of this truth opening beneath her in an endless, dark hole, she felt she wanted to run to him, comfort him and be comforted in turn. An incredible revelation of unimaginable weight had just been placed on her and all she wanted to do was go to Sasuke and tell him, to confide in him, even though he was the source of her pain.

She groped along the wall for the mantle of the fireplace in the cold, dim space. She found the flint and steel then knelt on the floor, striking the firewood to life. The heat of the blaze did nothing for the chill that spread through her. Like the charred kindling being eaten by the flame, she wished she could simply burn this evening from her mind, to forget everything that had just transpired. 

As she got to her feet, she felt the weight of her confession and his admission heavy in her bones. It settled upon her like an unshakeable burden and she wondered, briefly, if that might have been how Sasuke had felt all the years he’d kept his secret. Despite herself, she thought how lonely that must have been; she almost felt some sympathy for him.

Sakura trudged to her bed. Roughly, she pulled back the mussed, silk sheets to climb in, but stopped short when the fire lit up a dark spot on the bed. A flush came to her cheeks as she thought her release must have hit her so roughly that her wetness had sullied the bed. Sakura could picture them on the sheets, his mess of hair between her legs as he dragged her through a scorching orgasm. She pulled the sheet up to the light for a better look and recoiled with a gasp; dried streaks of blood marred the white cloth. A hand flew to her stomach; it was not her time of the month yet. Her cycle would not begin for another week. What could - ? She felt her knees go weak at the realization of where the blood had come from.

His fingers had been like a piston as they drove into her, so precise and sure, seeking only to heighten her enjoyment. But there was that pinch, that slight pain - well, she had been too consumed with pleasure to have given it much thought. . .

Sasuke had taken her innocence and they had been none the wiser. Her entire body quaked and her stomach roiled with nausea. The cold sweat of fear perspired on her skin; the burden of her virginity was gone, but in its place began an anxiety that threatened to asphyxiate her.

She was unfit for marriage and unfit for the throne. She clutched her hand over her mouth to prevent the curdling scream that fought to be set free. The blood drained from her face; she was unfit for any other man, but that was no epiphany to her.

She had known that truth from the moment she had set her naive gaze upon him.

* * *

Sasuke had opened his eyes, watching the door as though she might stride right through and straight into his arms. He had known what to expect and it had hurt worse than the slap to his cheek, but still he thought he could be the one to wipe her tears away. He loved her, did love her, and she had walked out on him. How foolish of him to think she would still be so amicable. There was no doubt in his mind that she was thoroughly disgusted with him now, afraid of him, too, even.

He needed to leave, not just that room, but the palace as well. Perhaps he could travel to Naruto’s post or hide out with Jiraiya. He was sick of hiding, but what else could he do? Sasuke grabbed his pack and pulled out his uniform.

* * *

Sakura continued to wait for the remorse, for the regret of allowing him this intimacy with her. It never came. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. Was she sick for loving him? Was she sick for craving his touch and his words so that she might bask in that love? She drew the comforter up to her pillows and walked out of her bedroom with no formulation to speak. Sasuke stood in the hallway, bag slung over his shoulder, hesitating by the front doors. She froze, despondency taking hold of her.

“Do you intend to leave?”

He turned, startled as though he had been lost in thought, but he quickly pulled on a guarded expression.

“I think it best,” he tightened his grip on the strap of his bag.

“I will not tell anyone, Sasuke-kun,” she realized the verity of her words as she uttered them. She began to speak again, to add that she would not tell anyone _yet,_ but she could not be sure she wanted to expose him at all.

"I will not ask you to keep my secret. Unlike you, Naruto had no choice in the matter," he shook his head solemnly, "I will not condemn another I care about. You can wash your hands of this, and me."

Sakura swallowed harshly and looked away. She did not want to. Even now, she felt a devastating ache taking over her heart, cracking her open until she stood vulnerable before his startlingly stoic eyes. She did not want to see him in uniform, walking out of her doors to desert her. She wished they were naked; tangled within each other, in her sheets, in their words, nothing but a breath between them. So she spoke again, stalling and entreating him to stay with her for just a moment more,

"Did you know him?" tears were welling in her eyes again and she spat the name out like a bad taste on her tongue, "Itachi?"

"Yes," he spoke slowly, carefully, though he thought it might be better to just get it over with. There was no avoiding it now, this was it, the last nail in the coffin she would bury him in. He grit his teeth, but exhaled softly and said, with a resigned look, "He was my brother."

Sasuke saw the affect that simple statement had on her. He watched her break, caught the realization as it flashed in her eyes that he _knew_ , he had known all along, and still he had let himself develop feelings for her. And worse yet, he had let _her_ fall in love with _him_.

"It changes nothing for me," he said quietly, scrambling for purchase in the chasm that was quickly swallowing him whole, "I still - ,"

"You are worse than they are!” she said suddenly through her disquieting sobs. He flinched from her, “You are worse than my parents who lie to me like I am a child!” tears stained her painfully beautiful features, the porcelain of her fair skin cracking under the pitiless truth, “Did you expect to keep this from me forever?! Or did you not wish to know me that long?!,” she drew in a sharp breath, "Do you want me dead?!"

"Never," he spoke with a plea, "My brother's actions were not my own. I was a child!"

"But you carry the name of your traitorous family!"

"And the burden of it! Of which I, too, did not choose," his eyes bore into hers, but she had become blinded by her hatred.

"I will not permit you to leave these premises," her voice was unstable and rough.

“Sakura, I can not stay here,” he protested.

"You will!" she snapped, “If you ever felt _anything_ for me, you will stay here tonight!” she took a breath that caused her entire body to shudder, nostrils flaring as she pinned him under her unyielding gaze.

He tried to fight off the urge to set his pack down; it was a response he did not have to give thought to. He knew his feelings, though she was not sure of the depth he held for her. But he could not tell her now; she could not know that he loved her, too. It would be too painful to watch her recoil from those words so fragile and true. She asked for something real, but much like she had once told him, they could not have one without giving up the other. And so it came down to his honesty or his love. He supposed he would have been devastated with any outcome, left to ruin when she was forced away from him either because they were not meant for the other or because she could not stand the sight of him once she knew who he really was.

“Very well,” he muttered, casting his eyes to the floor and retreating to his room. He hesitated to shut the door, but Sakura made the decision for him when she stalked back to her own space, slamming the wood behind her. He pushed the door closed and sank to the floor in his room with a heavy thump.

He felt suffocated, enclosed in her grasp in a way that no longer made him feel coveted but rather helpless. Still, he could place no blame on her. She was not at fault for hating him. And she was most assuredly not at fault for hating his family. But there was nothing that he could do about her feelings now. That lack of control he confessed to her earlier was now a carriage thrown off the beaten path, hurtling toward a crag that would send him into the oblivion of an ocean. He could not help her hatred and she had every reason to despise him more than any other person would. She had been right; they were so close - too close to each other, he thought. The problem was their paths had already crossed long before they had even met; and he could not escape fate, try though he did. 

After all, Itachi was the reason she had never known her own brother.


	12. Chapter 12

_“Please,” Mikoto begged, her voice wavering, drifting in and out of Sasuke’s earshot from where he stood just on the other side of the door, “Itachi, you can not go.”_

_“This is not something I can ignore, Mother.”_

_“We will keep you safe here,” she said with an edge of desperation to her words._

_“You can not guarantee that,” Itachi spoke gently, “Seiichi can. He will ensure my safety while we are away.”_

_“Itachi, the Harunos are not to be trusted! Not now.”_

_“He is my friend - ,”_

_Sasuke pressed his ear closer, against the wooden door._

_“And the son of the Emperor!”_

_“It is better that I go along, then. Perhaps I can begin to rebuild the bridges father has destroyed. If they think they have my trust - ,”_

_“Sasuke,” the gruff voice of his father caused him to turn sharply, “It is not kind to eavesdrop.”_

_Then, the door opened and Sasuke looked up to see his brother standing over him. Itachi had donned a dark suit of armor, the only color being the Uchiha fan emblazoned upon his chest plate, and a large sword swung from his belt. He looked just as Sasuke imagined the warriors from their bedtime stories would._

_“Where are you going?” Sasuke asked._

_“Nowhere,” Itachi smiled, crouching to his level._

_“Do not be so modest, Itachi,” Fugaku chuckled, “Your brother is off to war, Sasuke. He will return a hero, just as you will one day.”_

_Itachi faltered, fear slipping into his gaze as he looked at his little brother; he did not want that life for him._

_“I won’t be gone for long,” he said, ruffling Sasuke’s hair._

_And Sasuke believed him, but it still felt an eternity before he saw Itachi again. Everyday he would stand at the end of the village, chasing after each caravan in the hopes that they held his elder brother. Everyday he would be disappointed, trudging back to his home with a heavy heart and a clouded mind, wondering if he would ever see Itachi again._

* * *

_“Itachi.”_

_There was blood on his sword that dripped to coat his bare hands, but despite how fresh it was, there was a chill in his skin. It was hard to see through the haze of sweat and tears, through the black, matted curtain of his hair._

_“Itachi.”_

_He found it difficult to hear anything over the blood rushing through his body. There was a buzzing flitting through his mind like a trapped bug._

_“Itachi.”_

_It rose to a startling swell that covered him in a blinded rage. But that anger only fueled the tears streaking down his cheeks._

_“Itachi!” he swung the sword, cutting the man down to his knees. He sputtered and grasped at the hem of Itachi’s cloak, blood leaking from his mouth as he spoke silent pleas. Itachi watched him, committing the last moments of his friend’s life to his eternal memory._

* * *

_Sasuke stood at the edge of their porch, watching the Emperor’s caravan approach. Barely had the horses pulled to a stop, when the Emperor exited in a fury, storming down the path to approach Sasuke’s father. Fugaku tensed as he came closer._

_“Mikoto, take Sasuke inside,” Mikoto faltered, clasping her hands on Sasuke’s shoulders, “Now, Mikoto.”_

_Mikoto ushered Sasuke inside, shutting the door behind them, but sat herself by the window to watch her husband. She did not want him to face the Emperor alone._

_“Where is he, Fugaku?!” Kizashi was a storm, a terrifying tempest of unbridled anger and insurmountable sorrow, but Fugaku stood tall against him._

_“I do not know,” his voice was steady and tempered._

_“Lies!”_

_“I may have lost a son as well - ,”_

_“Then justice has been served!” Kizashi paced the space around him, causing bystanders to shrink back, some retreating to their own homes, “But I am still without my first born! I am without my male heir!”_

_“Sire, you have my sincerest sympathies - ,”_

_“Your sympathies mean nothing to me!” his hand cut through the air, waving Fugaku’s sentiments into oblivion, “Nothing you say could ever bring my son back!”_

_Fugaku’s eyes never left the Emperor, but he tensed almost imperceptibly when he was fixed with a devastating stare. Kizashi did not try to hide his tears._

_“Itachi’s actions did not reflect the beliefs of the Uchiha clan,” Fugaku’s voice was monotonous still._

_“Spare me,” Kizashi spat, stopping in his tracks, “I know you think me unfit to rule - I know that is why you will not accede to my proposals. You will not annex with Konoha, you will not cooperate with Uzumaki-san, and you will not comply with my laws! You have been biding your time until you could strike against my family and take power!”_

_“We had no such intentions. We seek only peace, as you do.”_

_“Peace is a luxury,” Kizashi shook his head, a disquieting calm overcoming him, “And one I will no longer bestow on you,” he raised his voice, a booming call to every bystander around them, “Henceforth, the Uchiha clan will not be recognized as a province of this kingdom! You will be severed from our trade routes and prohibited from all business with Konoha,” his next words settled around them like a deathly chill, “You are no longer under the protection of the Haruno empire.”_

_Fugaku did not bow his head, but stayed silent out of the waning respect he still had for that man. Kizashi took one long, last look at him and spit on the ground at his feet before turning back to his caravan. Fugaku watched the Emperor retreat, waiting until the carriages had pulled away to reenter his home. Mikoto rushed to her husband, but he brushed her off._

_“Where is he?!”_

_On cue, Itachi appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes cast down in a sign of submission. He took each step to the lower landing with great reluctance._

_“I am sorry, father,” his voice was a subdued whisper._

_“Quiet,” Fugaku hissed ferociously, causing Itachi to flinch from him, “You are no son of mine.”_

* * *

Sasuke sat at the edge of his bed, fidgeting with the unkempt covers, eyes trained to the wood at his feet. He had not slept and now the morning was upon him. It had been difficult to quell his dissident thoughts of Sakura. He could not shake the fierceness of her gaze, the disgust in her voice. All he wanted to do was broach the space between them, cross the hallway and take her in his arms.

He scoffed - for a moment he had fooled himself into thinking his brother was the only thing that stood in the way of their happiness. Even if she did forgive him and his heritage, they could never rightfully be together.

* * *

_“Papa, who is that?” Sakura was barely five years old standing in the grand hall of her father’s northern palace, art lining the walls on either side. She pointed a little finger to a grand tapestry that hung opposite an open window. The sun was high in the sky and cast a lifelike glow to the man’s handsomely threaded face. The silver filament that wove his sword together refracted the light and caused it to move as though he were about to attack. His armor, black as the night itself, appeared foreboding against the bright, intricate background. Most notably though, Sakura’s attention had been drawn to the long, pink hair that fell to his waist in a neat braid._

_Kizashi approached his daughter, watching as her eyes lit up in awe at the portrait before her._

_“That is your brother,” she was too young to notice the way her father’s voice cracked at the end of that statement and she was too captivated by the work of art to see the way his eyes had begun to water, “Seiichi.”_

_“Where is he?” Sakura struggled to recall if her father or mother had ever mentioned another child before. Kizashi put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly and urging her to turn away. But, she wouldn’t. Sakura’s stare could not leave the fabricated image. This was her brother? He appeared brave and noble; a valiant soldier._

_“He is gone, dear,” her mother’s voice echoed through the hall._

_“Gone?” Sakura tilted her head to the side._

_“Mebuki, please,” there was a tone of warning laced in Kizashi’s words._

_“He is dead,” Mebuki continued, ignoring her husband. She approached Sakura and kneeled before her, voice wavering, “A horrible man slaughtered your brother, simply out of hatred and jealousy.”_

_“Quiet,” Kizashi hissed, pulling Sakura away, “She is too young for that.”_

_Kizashi brought her out of the hall, handing her off to a guard and closed the doors behind him. She heard her father’s voice raise, marred by his own broken sobs, and heard her mother’s bereft response in turn. She did not understand; she had not known she had a brother._

* * *

Sleep seemed to be a luxury lately, one that continued to elude her. Time had passed at a relaxed pace, allowing her too many moments to ponder, but it was difficult to find things other than Sasuke to focus on.

She forced herself to think of her fish, the koi she had neglected since she had begun seeing Sasuke regularly. Her father’s attendants had surely been caring for them in her absence, but she suddenly longed to feed them, if only to attain a moment of normalcy, a reprieve. The light of day began to shine through the slits of her curtains, brightening her room; she had spent the remainder of her night watching the fire die out. She was rooted to her soiled sheets and for all she knew, Sasuke could have been long gone by then.

But something told her he had not left - perhaps it was that pull. If she tugged on that thread, she could feel him tug back and know that he was right there, on the other end just across the hall.

A knock came at her door; or maybe he was closer than that?

“Who is it?” while she was not sure she could confront Sasuke then, she was also well aware of the glaring fact that he was the only one she wished to see at that moment.

“Sakura,” his voice was torn and raspy.

She did not turn to face the door and she did not answer, but she heard him use his key. She was grateful he had taken the initiative to come to her, because she was completely unsure of how she should approach him. Sakura thought it odd in that moment that she was even considering how she should act rather than how she wanted to act. But, she supposed how she wanted to act - to fling herself into his arms and cry against his chest, to cry for her brother, to cry for their doomed love - was not the most appropriate. She heard the thump of his boots as he paced the length of her room, painfully out of her range of sight.

“Have I fallen out of your favor?” his tone was somewhat scathing, bitter from his own pain, but she recalled how he told her just the other night that he did not wish to seek such a thing. Perhaps he did not realize her love and her favor were not the same.

“You were never in it,” she said after the silence became too thick. Her fingers fumbled with the tie of her robe at her waist, “Favor is for those who do not occupy a space in my heart.”

Sasuke clenched his fists and stalked over to the bed to stand in front of her. She would not look up at him, but her fingers stilled, wound tightly in the silk. He saw her tense and felt an itch stretch through him to reach for her.

“Are you afraid of me?”

She nodded her head slowly and parted her lips to suck in a low breath.

“I am,” her shoulders hunched, “And, I am afraid of the legacy your name carries.”

“I am not my brother and I am more than my name,” he spat fiercely, but still her voice remained soft,

“A name is all we have,” she paused, “It is the only true currency we possess.”

Sasuke grasped her chin and yanked her eyes to his. His fingers spread over her cheek, but she did not flinch from his touch. He let his hand fall, as if in a gentle caress, to the curve of her neck. His thumb rested over her pulse point that thrummed a steady beat, to his surprise.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked again, this time slow, more gently. But his eyes were unrelenting, commanding her attention and the devotion of her honesty. She sucked in her bottom lip and bit it to the point he thought she might bleed. But she released it and untangled her fingers from her robe.

“No,” she wrested herself free and came to stand. Sasuke’s eyes fell and that’s when he noticed the smeared, dried blood on her sheets.

“Sakura,” her name was a terrified whisper and she turned sharply, ready to reprimand him before he could speak further, but then she saw where his gaze had fallen and all the color drained from her face.

“Sasuke-kun, I - ,”

“Are you hurt?”

“It is not what you think - ,”

A loud pounding sounded at her door, startling them; they had not heard anyone come through the front entrance. Sakura ran to her dresser and pulled out a more formal robe, the outer layer to one of her kimonos, hastily shrugging it over to cover her indelicate attire, “Come in!”

Kakashi strode forth, casting a curious glance between Sakura who clutched the edges of her dress and Sasuke who appeared to be edging every manner of self control.

“Have I interrupted something?”

“Not at all,” Sakura shook her head, “Forgive me, I’ve just woken up.”

Kakashi did not remark on the fact that it looked as though neither of them had slept a wink.

“Haruno-sama, your father wishes to see you,” Kakashi gestured to the entryway and she followed his hand. She spared Sasuke a brief glance before exiting the room and Kakashi leered at him with his good eye, raising a questioning brow before shutting the door behind them.

* * *

“Good morning, Father, Mother,” Sakura said jovially as she entered the sitting room. She had buttoned her outer layer and smoothed her hair in an effort to look decent before her parents. Kakashi retreated to the edge of the room with the other guards.

“Good morning, dear,” her mother embraced her tightly, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she smiled warmly, despite her words being so far from the truth.

“Wonderful,” her father beamed, “Perhaps you will feel even more so upon hearing that your rooms have been refurbished. You may move back in to them if you like.”

Sakura faltered; what would that mean for her and Sasuke? Would everything go back to the way it had all started? The tentative touches and whispered exchanges, the denial of passion - could she accept that? Would it even matter? How could they come back from the damage his family had created?

“That is such good news,” Sakura breathed, lids fluttering rapidly as she struggled to process the weight settling heavy in her heart.

“Sakura, I thought we could spend the day together while they move your things back,” her mother smiled and stroked her hair, “We could send for your ladies and have a relaxing time.”

“Yes,” Sakura swallowed and looked up at her mother, “I think that would be nice.”

Perhaps, she thought, it might take her mind off of Sasuke.

“Kakashi-san, would you be so kind as to call on Hinata-chan and the other girls?” Mebuki asked and Kakashi nodded his assent. Mebuki moved Sakura into her adjacent sitting room while they awaited the arrival of her ladies.

* * *

Sasuke groped the sheets, running his hands over the paths his fingers had created the previous night. He knew women bled during their first time. Could it be possible he had stolen her virginity in his own stupid fervor? He gripped the fabric and ripped it from the mattress in a fury. Sasuke kept no pretenses with himself; what else could it be? He would have noticed if it was her time of the month to bleed. He felt disgusted, thoroughly repulsed by his own greed and desires.

Suddenly, a flurry of maids and servants entered the room, working around Sasuke silently to gather Sakura’s things while he stood there awkwardly clutching her soiled sheets. One of them came forward, holding out her hands to take the burden from Sasuke. He hesitated, but only for a moment before he relinquished the bundle to her.

A sudden and intense dread filled him then. He had to leave, get far away from Sakura. She could lie about the blood on her sheets, claim it was her menstrual cycle, but Sasuke could not count on her to protect him. He was too close and he needed to take a step back. As much as it pained him, he knew it would be smarter to remove himself from her presence completely.

* * *

Sakura had seated herself by the window, a book laid out before her on the table, but her mind was a million miles away. Or rather, it was just across the palace grounds.

“Hinata-chan, has Naruto-kun written to you recently?” Mebuki’s voice lilted with a teasing tone. Hinata blushed and dropped her knitting into her lap.

“Yes,” her voice was a squeak, her cheeks bright red, “He says he has a surprise for me if - well, when he returns.”

That snapped Sakura out of her reverie. She turned to look at Hinata.

“Do you think he will propose?” Ino asked.

“That must be it,” Tenten shot to her feet and hurried over to where Hinata sat.

“Oh,” Hinata ducked her head, dubious, “I do not know. I don’t think so. He wouldn’t - ,”

“Of course he would,” Karin nodded fervently, “He’s absolutely mad about you.”

“He is?”

“He is,” Sakura amended, “But you are worried for him, yes?”

“Yes,” Hinata’s voice was quiet, “I know he does not want me to worry, and so he never tells me how dire the situation truly is, but I fear he is in trouble.”

“Let us talk of something else, ladies,” Mebuki said with a strict smile. Sakura scowled at her mother and looked back to Hinata.

“And you love him?” she asked.

“C-Completely,” Hinata seemed surprised by Sakura’s question. Her eyes flitted to Mebuki, but were eventually drawn back to Sakura, “I am so scared for him at times; I fear this war will never end.”

“It does not seem that way, does it?” Sakura asked softly.

“Ladies, please!” Mebuki snapped and Hinata shut her mouth. But Sakura shot a glare toward her mother.

“This war is not a secret,” she spoke harshly.

“No, but it is upsetting. I will not have you talk of it so flippantly,” Mebuki huffed and set her shoulders straight, much like a bird ruffling its feathers. Sakura grimaced and returned her attention to the window. A soft chatter resumed around her, casting her back into the depths of her thoughts. She tried to imagine what Hinata must go through simply pulling herself out of bed every morning. How would it feel to have one's love so far across the world? It was difficult enough with Sasuke simply in another building across the palace grounds. It was difficult enough knowing that there was more than only a physical space between them, but at least she knew where to find him; Hinata could not even be sure that Naruto was alive.

"Ino, Ino, there he is!" Karin got to her feet abruptly, clamoring for the window nearest her that happened to be away from Sakura.

"Oh, he's so handsome!" Ino exclaimed, pressing her hands to the glass. Sakura struggled to peer between the two from her position across the room.

"You girls are so foolish," Tenten sighed then glanced at Sakura, amending her confused expression, "I've not been able to get them to stop talking about the _other_ Uzumaki."

"Oh," Sakura struggled to keep herself in her seat. Apparently, in his absence, their infatuations with Sasuke had only grown stronger.

“Such a shame we have not seen him train with the other soldiers in so long,” Ino teased, “I may have to take that shirt off myself.”

Karin giggled.

“Girls!” Mebuki chastised with a soft laugh, “Such active imaginations.”

“Hardly,” Karin chimed in, “If I had one, I could imagine the clothes right off of him.”

“Oh, how silly,” Mebuki clucked her teeth, but Karin and Ino fell into a fit of laughter, “You had better get a move on, one of you. With a face like that, I do not believe he will be uncalled for for much longer.”

Sakura's heart plummeted to her stomach. As much as she was angry with him, her mother’s words had struck her with a palpable fear. She had proof before her that she was not the only one that lusted after him and she knew, quite suddenly, that was how Sasuke had felt upon reading Lee’s letter. Sakura could still recall the rhythm of his breath as they fell asleep and she did not wish anyone else to know that sound. She closed her eyes and found that she could still conjure the way his arms felt around her and she did not want anyone else to know that touch. She wished for only herself to know how it felt to be the subject of his desires, coveted and kept by his passion.

And she had told him it was impossible for anyone to reproduce his feelings for her. But without him there to reassure her of the same, it was difficult to see why he would choose somebody he could not have.

* * *

Sasuke had left her empty room to traverse the grounds, bound by his disquieting thoughts and unable to distract himself even with his job, because she was so out of reach. But his feet led him to the path of the Emperor's sitting room where the guards stationed there parted the doors for him to enter. Kizashi paused mid sentence when he spotted Sasuke and turned away from his delegates.

"Have you run out of things to do now that my daughter is preoccupied?" the man chuckled, but Sasuke could only manage a polite smile. 

"I am rendered inept in her absence," it was not entirely too far from the truth. The Emperor laughed heartily, a few of his advisors joining in as a show of good standing.

"How can I help you, Uzumaki-san?"

Sasuke faltered for a moment, considering if he should make up an excuse instead of admitting to why he was actually there. But he found himself at a loss for those words. He could think only of his desire to be near her and how he should not want that.

"I thought we might talk of my reassignment."

"Yes," Kizashi beamed, "Yes, yes,” he addressed his delegates, “Please, give us a moment.”

His advisors bowed and took their leave, stepping aside Sasuke. The door shut quietly behind them, but it was as if it had slammed, he had asphyxiated himself so much with his own anxiety.

"Thank you," Sasuke's heart constricted painfully as he bowed in respect.

“Nonsense, I will always make time for the man who saved my daughter,” Kizashi smiled, “Tell me what position you wish to have and I will make it available to you.”

“I do not seek anything frivolous,” Sasuke swallowed roughly, “I will leave it to you and what you deem me fit for.”

Kizashi considered him for a long while, stroking his chin as he thought.

“I would like to keep you here,” he spoke carefully, “For now. Once I feel we are safe at the palace, you may join your brother if you still wish. In the meantime, would you consider a position as head of my guard? Kakashi-san is willing to take you on as an apprentice so that you may occupy his place when he joins Naruto-san. Our soldiers will be under your care and tutelage; it will fall on you to determine and ensure their loyalty.”

Sasuke did not speak, caught in the tangle of the Emperor’s words. They placed on him a heady weight. It was not the additional responsibility that deterred him, though he was not a sociable person. Instead, it was something else - someone else - that still held him back.

“Do not feel pressure to make your decision now,” Kizashi smiled, assuring him, “Give it thought, but know that you have my full support.”

“Thank you, sir.”

* * *

Sasori, Kabuto, and Deidara approached the two soldiers stationed at the doors to the prison cells. The sun, though it had made very little appearance that snowy day, no longer shined from behind the clouds, shrouding them in the cover of darkness.

“I see you did not get cold feet,” Sasori spoke with an air of condescension.

“We are here out of loyalty to the Akatsuki and Orochimaru, not you,” one of the men spat.

“Then you have made a grave mistake,” Sasori said through gritted teeth, “I am the Akatsuki. We are brothers in arms. Divided we will fall, but together we rise from the ashes. Are you with us? Or must we cut you down, too?”

The men looked to each other, exchanging the briefest, tentative glance before nodding to Sasori.

“We are with you.”

“A good choice,” Kabuto affirmed and opened his hand to reveal five small darts.

“One for each guard,” Sasori explained, “This has to happen fast. No mistakes this time.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldiers responded adeptly, each taking a dart. Deidara and Sasori took theirs, examining the sharp point at the end, but careful not to touch it.

“The poison is deadly, but in order for it to work quickly, it has to enter through a vein,” Kabuto explained, “The neck or the wrist will be easiest to get to.”

“Like I said,” Sasori spoke, “We have to move fast.”

The soldiers nodded, yanking open the doors so that they could enter. The guards immediately stood to attention, defensive, but still trusting of their fellow troops. Meanwhile, the prisoners stiffened in their cells, recognition evident in their intent gazes.

“Shift break already?” one of the guards said with a quirked simper. Sasori smirked, each of his soldiers coming to face one of the Emperor’s men.

“Your shift is over,” Sasori hissed and jabbed the needle into the man’s neck. The others followed suit, encouraging shouts of approvals from the Akatsuki prisoners. The guards fell limp to the floor and Kabuto took the keys off of one of their belts. He went around to each iron cell, releasing their fellow men, “My brothers, now it is our time! Where our comrades had failed, we will succeed. We will return to Orochimaru, regroup our resources, and attack the Harunos with the full force of the Akatsuki!”

His soldiers cheered and clapped him on the back as he strode to the end of the building. He ran his hand over the stone wall before settling it over one spot.

“Cover your ears.”

* * *

Sakura fidgeted in her seat, her spirit restless as ever as she watched the sky darken. She felt herself enveloped with a sweet warmth as she thought of what nightfall had begun to mean to her and she longed to feel that security with Sasuke again. She ached to be near him, to hear his voice, even if he spoke of his hatred for her family.

“I think I would like to return to my rooms,” Sakura stood from the table, breaching the silence that had settled.

“So soon?” Mebuki asked.

“I did not sleep so well last night,” Sakura frowned, but averted her gaze.

“How unfortunate,” her mother’s voice held true concern, “Have Kakashi-san escort you back. I do not want you walking alone so late in the hour.”

“Of course,” Sakura nodded and bid good night to her ladies to which they all returned her the same. She slipped out of the door, into Kizashi’s sitting room, and was stopped in her tracks by the sight of Sasuke speaking with her father. They both looked to Sakura when they heard her enter. Kizashi opened his mouth to speak when a thunderous bang shattered the silence around them. Kakashi ran for the Emperor, but Sasuke ran to Sakura, taking hold of her waist and ushering her into Mebuki’s sitting room. Sakura held fast to him as he guided her through the doorway. Mebuki stood by the back of the room, holding open a panel in the wall where she had already led in Sakura’s ladies. Another bang sounded and, instinctively, Sasuke pushed Sakura to the ground, covering her with his body.

“Stay here,” he was breathless, hovering over her with an unbidden look in his eyes that caused her heart to swell. He was there, once more, running after her and proving that he would do just the same time and again. He pushed away to leave, but she caught his arm. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, but she didn’t want to see him go, “Stay here.”

She shook her head, but he tore himself away as a group of soldiers approached with the Emperor. Kizashi rushed to Sakura and pulled her into the crawlspace. She lost sight of Sasuke’s back as they shut the panel behind them.

He ran out of the room, stepping onto the trampled snow. Sasuke tore through the gardens to the fire that sought to demolish one of the palace buildings. Many of the Emperor’s guards had amassed there and he could hear the clamor of swords echoing through the grounds. They fought alongside the pyre as the smoke rose through the sky, the snow made more prominent against the dark backdrop.

Sasuke brandished a blade, ready to fight, but as he came closer, he noticed the tide of soldiers turning. They rushed him, knocking into Sasuke, stumbling over their own feet, scrambling like prey.

“Get back!” a guard shouted.

They were running away. . .

Sasuke caught himself, spinning on his heel just as another blast rocked the floor underneath him and flung him across the grounds. He landed on his back, pain spiraling through his body and a sharp ringing in his ear, both crescendoing until he lost consciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

_His brother, the eldest, the prodigy of the Uchiha clan, the warrior first of his name, had finally returned. He arrived in the very same armor he had left with, its edges bent and the chest plate dented. His sword swung at his side as he moved one heavy foot in front of the other._

_He was not met with cheers. There was no parade, nor songs sung by his people of the battle he had just witnessed. He walked his streets with hunched shoulders and eyes cast down to his feet. He was shrouded in the clouds of his memories, blinded by a thick haze of anger and desperation. And it seemed no one would approach him, either out of their own fear or because they had already deemed him a blemish on the great Uchiha name._

_But then Sasuke ran to him, wrenching free of his mother's protective hold, and enveloped Itachi in a tight embrace. He appeared startled, as if Sasuke had knocked him out of a daze, but then he knelt down and wrapped his arms around his little brother. He shuddered against him, tears wetting Sasuke's yukata, refusing to let go. He was home, but he was not safe._

_Then, Itachi felt Sasuke ripped out of his arms and looked up to find the stern, appalled visage of his father scrutinizing him. Fugaku moved in front of Sasuke, an impenetrable wall between the two brothers._

_"Did you think we would protect you if you came back here?" Fugaku's tone cut like knives through his son's heart._

_"I have nowhere else to go,” his throat was dry; he was thirsty and he had not had a decent meal in days, “I will not stay long. I do not wish to put you in danger," his words were solemn, but his tears still flowed._

_"And yet that is precisely what your sickening actions have done!" Fugaku barked. Many onlookers had come out of their homes to bear witness to the defamed son of the Uchiha Clan's leader. Sasuke watched from the clutches of his mother who shook with an unconquerable sorrow that ravaged her heart. She did not want Sasuke to succumb to the same fate Itachi had doomed himself to. But, history had a way of repeating itself. She saw it, clear as day, when she looked between her husband and Itachi._

_He did not argue his father’s accusation; he was well aware of what he had done and of the consequences he would be forced to endure._

_“I promise you, I will not stay long,” Itachi pleaded, on his knees before his father and the rest of his village. He was not asking for redemption, only shelter; for he knew the former was too far out of reach._

* * *

She could not stall her pacing feet, wringing her fingers together as a clamorous cacophony of swords infiltrated the walls of their hideout. Her parents had urged her to sit, but Sakura had refused. She could not keep the worry out of her mind or her heart as she thought of how Sasuke was faring outside. It did not help that she had happened to peer over at the corner of the room where Hinata was hunched, her haunted, transfixed stare miles away from her position on the floor. She knew Hinata was thinking about Naruto, and it only made her worry for Sasuke more. But she could not let herself sit still like that, knowing that her mind would only fret twice as much if her body exerted no energy at all.

Then, suddenly, she heard screams and she stopped her restless feet. She faced the panel door when a blast quaked the ground beneath her and she lost her footing, falling back. Her mother scrambled for her, trying to pull her away from the wall as everything fell into an eery stillness, Sakura’s heart being the only thing she could hear.

* * *

_"Are you a hero?"_

_"No."_

_Sasuke did not understand. All his young life his family had told him the Uchiha name was something to brandish, like a medal of valor in a time of war. And his father had said his brother would return a hero, but Itachi did not speak on the year he was away. Very unlike other soldiers of battle, Sasuke had not heard one word from his brother about what had happened during his time in the northern provinces._

_"But father said - ,"_

_"Father was wrong," Itachi stilled his hand that held the stone. Sasuke had watched him sharpen his sword in a rhythm too calculated and sure for a man so disturbed by his own thoughts, "It may seem impossible to you now - he is a wise man - but one day you will understand that he does not possess the knowledge of the world. He can see only so far in front of him and that sight does not extend much farther than the clan," he finally set his eyes on Sasuke, still clutching the hilt of his sword, "There will be times when we are forced to make sacrifices, so that we can protect the people we love."_

Sasuke startled awake, eyes wrenched open as a wave of dormant pain rolled over him. He was staring up at a high ceiling and an iron rod that circled around him, partially hiding him behind a thick curtain. Gradually, sound began to filter into his haze, the soft chatter and pained groans of the other occupants in the room. He tried to move, but found his limbs like lead and the pain too great to overcome. A nurse bustled over with a pitcher of water and refilled the glass at his bedside table.

“Do not try to move,” she said sternly, “Your injuries are considerable, but you should count yourself lucky; you might walk away with only a few scars.”

“Har - Sa - ,”

“The Emperor is safe,” she said and turned before Sasuke could clarify who he was asking about. The pain began to throb through his body again, reaching a boiling point too difficult to ignore. He let himself succumb to it and basked in the blinding numbness that followed.

* * *

Sakura did not realize how much she had expected to see Sasuke waiting outside for her when she emerged until she felt utter panic seize her at his absence. She had spent the rest of the night inside that crawlspace, waiting for the palace to be deemed safe enough so that they might come out of hiding. Kakashi-san was there instead, guiding her parents out of the sitting room, but Sakura began in the opposite direction, eyes scanning her desolate garden and the rubble in the distance where the smoke of a dying fire still billowed into the sky.

“Sakura,” her mother hissed, eyes narrowed and hand outstretched to receive her. Sakura hesitated, gaze flickering between Mebuki and the devastation of the blast, “Come here.”

Sakura turned and walked toward her mother who tucked her into her side.

“Sir, we’ve found another body,” Kakashi spoke quietly to the Emperor, out of earshot of Sakura’s ladies, but she had heard. Sakura felt the breath stolen from her, syphoned from her lungs, a feeling thick as lead replacing it. There were bodies?

She couldn’t croak out the word “Who?” Instead, she tore herself away, gathering the skirt of her robe in a vice grip and ran across the frozen field, the calls of her parents dying on the wind. The thump of her heart caused a ringing in her ears and the only thought circling her mind was: _not him. Kami, not him._

She came upon the desolate brick and ruin, but found much more than she had petitioned for. Slain men were strewn in the most crude manor, limbs flung this way and that, beneath the pieces of the crumbled building. Around her lay a menagerie of appendages separated from other parts of their bodies. Bile rose in her throat; how could she know if any of them were Sasuke? And what if they were? What if that was his arm slung over that brick or his leg trapped under a wooden beam? She could have collapsed under the weight of her own fear and disgust, but Kakashi caught her by the elbow before she did.

"Come this way, Haruno-sama. You should not see these things," he urged her away as she began to tremble, leading her across the snow covered grounds. Her parents ran to her, Mebuki clutching Sakura tightly against her chest.

"Are you mad?!" Mebuki questioned, "Why would you wish to see such carnage?"

Sakura could only shake her head; she did not have an answer for her mother. She feared, too, that if she opened her mouth, she would not be able to contain what spilled forth, be it vitriol words or something much more incriminating.

“Perhaps you should rest, dear,” Kizashi pulled her away from Mebuki. He took Sakura’s hand and, after digging in his pocket, placed two keys in her open palm, “I’ve had your locks changed, as a precaution, and given you a spare. Kakashi-san, please escort her to her rooms.”

Kakashi nodded and extended his arm which Sakura took with an unsteady hand. He led her away from the concerned stares of her ladies and took her around the path of the garden towards her rooms. He opened the door for her and she stepped quietly inside, gaze fixed on the clean floor no longer stained with the blood of the soldier that had threatened her life. She did not want to lift her eyes to see the rest of the room; she was terrified it would look exactly the same, as though nothing had ever happened.

“Do you require anything?” Kakashi asked. Sakura stuttered in her steps, then turned to look up at him. She wanted to ask about Sasuke; she had to know, but at the same time, the part of her that was still hoping, praying he had made it out alive was also telling her not to raise suspicion. It would be difficult enough to explain why she had rushed to the graveyard of the blast in such a terrified frenzy.

“Were there any survivors last night?” Kakashi gave her an odd look; she had survived. She swallowed thickly and drew her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking again, “My guard, is he all right?”

Her heart pulsed tremulously, stammering and fighting against the small beat of silence that felt to her like an eternity.

“He is in the infirmary, recovering.”

Sakura let go of the breath she had been holding and nodded softly.

“That is a relief.”

“Indeed,” Kakashi paused, his foot passing over the threshold, “Visitation hours end at nightfall.”

With that, he left her room, shutting the door behind him. Sakura sank to her knees, the exhaustion of her helpless night passed behind the wall and the exertion of her heart causing her to crumble on the floor. She was so utterly drained that she could not move, could not think what to do in that moment, but still she felt the thread and she knew she wanted to pull herself to the other end. She knew she wanted to see him, needed to know that he was going to be okay. When she slipped outside, she found that Kakashi had left her rooms unattended. Yet, off in the distance, the majority of the guards were preoccupied with the devastation. She went off in the other direction, following the path to the infirmary, a building she had not visited since she was a child learning, and failing, to ride on horseback.

“Haruno-sama, you should not be here,” a harried nurse rushed over to her when she entered, “It is a gruesome sight.”

“I will be only a moment, I - ,” her eyes scanned the room, passing over the gurneys of men with bandaged limbs and, some, faces. She felt herself cut short, her stomach roiling with unease and fear.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“U - Uzumaki-san, where is he?”

“At the end, last curtain on the right,” the nurse led her down the rows and peeled back the thick cloth. Sakura swore her heart stopped; she could feel it fissuring down the center. The nurse pulled a chair up to his bedside, “I will be attending to the others. If you do need anything, please call for me.”

Sakura could only nod, but the nurse was already walking away. She shut the curtains, allowing them privacy, muting the world just beyond, and collapsed in the chair. With a trembling hand over her mouth, her eyes raked over the damage he’d endured. His forehead was covered with a thick white bandage, his left arm in a tight sling, and his unclothed abdomen was wrapped with bloodied gauze. His pants were torn up to the thighs where she saw a decoration of cuts and bruises, shining with the application of a salve. Yet with all this pain, he was fast asleep. Sakura took his right hand, placing her palm over his and squeezing tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Sasuke-kun,” her voice bubbled barely over a whisper. A guilt she hadn’t known she’d been holding on to surfaced like an unwelcome memory. The only reason he was still there was because she had told him to stay. She had used his affection as a weapon against him, forcing him into a trap. His fingers twitched and she felt him return her hold with as much strength as he could garner.

“Sa - ura,” he croaked, brows screwing shut before his lids fluttered open. His dark eyes, pupils blown so wide that they became lost in his irises, focused on her, “Are - okay?”

“Sasuke-kun, stop,” she placed a hand on his cheek, stroking his jawline, “Please, do not talk.”

He began to move, attempting to shift himself on his side, but she pushed against his chest, coaxing him back.

“Sakura, a - you okay?” he tried to lace their fingers together, to pull their hands closer, but he found himself to be too debilitated.

“Please, do not worry for me,” Sakura shook her head, “I am so sorry, Sasuke-kun.”

“It is not your fault,” he said softly, fighting against the haze of sleep and pain.

“If I had not told you to stay - ,”

“You might be dead,” he snapped, made lucid by her admission, and looked away from her. She swallowed and dropped her eyes.

“I understand you must be very cross with me,” she said forlornly. Sasuke was not sure if he was. He was not certain of what he was feeling at that moment, except for the relief flowing through him at her safety.

“Are you not cross with me?”

“I do not know,” she answered honestly, but rested her head at his side on the gurney, “I am just so happy you are safe.”

He pulled his hand back to lay on her cheek where he swept away strands of her hair. He closed his eyes, tangling his fingers in her soft tendrils.

“I am sorry, too.”

Sakura slipped her hand over his abdomen, fingers just centimeters from the gauze soaked with his fresh blood. Their breaths fell into synchronicity, so much so that, for a moment, Sakura imagined they were back in her room, in the comfort of her own bed.

“I do not want you to leave my side again,” she whispered, “I can not bear it.”

“I have told you, one day you will have to.”

“Stop it. I can not think about that now, I do not wish to.”

“Sakura, it is inevitable,” he sounded tired, exhausted not only by the events of the previous night but by the same loop they seemed to always find themselves in, mostly by his own tormented hand. She swallowed harshly, thumb stroking against his skin, tracing the line of a muscle.

“As is my love for you,” she whispered, “It seems,” Sasuke opened his eyes, teeth gritted as he peered down at her. She was not looking at him, but he felt the scene was already too familiar. He could have guessed they had fallen asleep in similar positions a hundred times before, though he knew it was not true. But he knew he loved Sakura and he was suddenly very afraid at the prospect of sharing his feelings with her.

“I have hated your family for as long as I can remember," Sakura shut her eyes as she spoke, “Were you taught to hate mine?”

"Not hate," Sasuke mused, “Dislike perhaps,” he shook his head, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth, “But that became irrelevant when I met you.”

Sakura fell quiet for a moment, her inquiry burning on her tongue. She struggled to bite it back, but as always, her feelings seemed to beat out the strength of her discretion.

“Why did he do it?

"Itachi never told me," Sasuke spoke slowly, fighting off the clutches of darkness as it edged into his eyes. He grit his teeth, "But he is gone now, so I suppose justice has been served."

Was it justice?, she wondered. It did not feel like it, not when she saw how fragile Sasuke had become in that moment. 

"Your pain does not assuage mine,” she murmured, “Nothing can replace the brother I never knew. And what’s more, perhaps even worse still, no one could replace you.”

Sasuke twisted his fingers in her hair, tight enough that she felt a soft pull, but she did not mind; the touch reminded her of his presence beside her, that he was not running into danger, at least in that moment.

“Sakura, I have to know,” he swallowed harshly and looked anywhere but at her, “The blood on your sheets - was that me?”

He felt her stiffen beside him and her eyes snapped open.

“Sasuke-kun,” she spoke carefully, with trepidation, “I will not lie to you, but please do not think you have done anything wrong."

"You have to go," he took his hand away, almost violently so. Her head shot up at that, eyes narrowing. 

"What? No. Sasuke-kun, I will not just leave you like this."

"It is not fair to you to prolong something that will invariably end. I have already done too much damage."

She fell into a long, wordless stare. 

"So, you think me damaged?"

"That is not what I said," he protested, feeling weak against the strain it took to lift his head.

"It is what you implied," she snapped in a harsh whisper. He realized he could not argue that point. She was tainted by him in a way that was irrevocable now, “You said I would have no decision in how I felt for you once I knew the truth,” she took a deep breath, eyes not wavering from his, “You were right. I can not change the fact that I still love you. Nor can you.”

They fell silent and Sasuke was compelled to look away, to see anything but her, like the bits of dust floating in the air, lighted by the sun streaming in from the exposed window above him.

"Do you expect me to act as if nothing has occurred between us?" her words were clipped; she had grown tired of his silence.

"Yes," he could barely get that one syllable out.

"But you protected me, again," she could not bring herself to understand his reasoning. It suddenly felt like eons ago that they had spent an evening wrapped within each other's arms. And still, the man she knew and the Uchiha she faced felt like two different people, "Why?"

"If you die, I might as well be subjected to the same fate," he could not meet her desperate gaze, words torn from him like an animal gutted, "To save myself a lifetime of suffering worse than the pain of death."

"Yet, you seek to push me away," he was not making sense to her.

"I am afraid of hurting you more than I already have."

"So now that you have bared yourself before me, shared your secrets, at least those most buried deep, I am to have none of you again?"

"We could never have possessed each other wholly," finally he looked at her, sober and fierce, "You are not mine to have."

"It does not matter to me that we are not supposed to be together. It only matters that you want me," her breath stuttered through her trembling lips, "As I want you."

"And what will you do when your family forces you to marry? Will I continue to be your lover in secret? Whilst your husband sleeps am I to come _fuck_ you like an Empress's whore?" he spat the words in a quiet tirade, so cruelly that Sakura flinched.

“I know only that I despise the future and I wish to live solely for these moments I have with you, short as they might be,” she hissed, “Do not treat me like a petulant child simply because you are as miserable about our situation as I am.”

She fished in her pocket for one of the keys to her rooms and slammed it on the table beside his empty glass of water.

“My father changed the locks to my room,” her eyes raked over him in a cold calculating manner as she stood, “I want you to have the spare.”

Sakura yanked the curtain back and stormed out of the infirmary, bypassing the busied nurses. She rounded snowy corners until she came upon her rooms and hurried through the entrance. In a fury, she ran to her bedroom and locked the door, then went about shutting her curtains until she was bathed in darkness. She peeled off her robe, leaving it on the floor, and sat in her slip at the edge of her bed. She remembered the first night he had saved her, when he had pulled her back to that very room, wretched and frightened at the prospect of losing her, but possessed completely by passion. He had burned with a fire that seemed like it would never extinguish. Now, she had to wonder if that same flame was barely flickering with life. She did not understand how he could speak his devotion, yet instead of act on it, push her away.

She did not think she could endure the torment any longer. But at the same time, she knew the validity of his fears. She was aware there were and would be consequences for her actions, but they failed to press as insistently as her need for Sasuke did. And that was all the justification she required to attempt to keep him at her side and within her heart.

* * *

_“I came to warn you!” Itachi shouted and it caused his father to stop at the threshold of their house, “The choice is yours to believe me or not, but I am taking Sasuke away from here. I will protect him, even if you fail to.”_

_Fugaku spun on his heel, angered by Itachi’s words, concerned more for his pride in that moment than the truth of his traitorous son’s warning._

_“You think me unfit to protect my own son?”_

_“I am a product of your own design, father,” his voice was cold, tempered with disdain._

_“You insolent, contemptible - ,”_

_“Fugaku!” Mikoto burst out of the house like a gale and came to stand beside Itachi, “You are blinded by your own pride! He is our child!”_

_Fugaku clenched his fists, nostrils flaring as he fought to calm his breath. Behind him, Sasuke stood by the door, watching with fearful curiosity at the exchange between his family._

_“I can keep Sasuke safe. I have arranged for him to be taken far from Konoha. No one will ever know he is an Uchiha,” Itachi’s voice betrayed him, desperation filtering into his words._

_“It is your fault he can not carry our name with honor,” Fugaku spat._

_“The Uchiha name was tainted long before this war ever started,” Itachi hissed, “You saw to that when you defied the Emperor’s will. I merely finished the task for you.”_

_“You dare slander me in my own home?!”_

_“This was once my home, too!” Mikoto gripped Itachi’s arm as he began to advance on his father, “And though I was exiled, I will still fight to my dying breath to protect it! The Akatsuki are coming. The Hokage will not help you and the Emperor can not stop them. They have destroyed villages before and this one will be no different, father. But if you leave now, you can survive,” Itachi watched Fugaku; he had settled into a grave look of contemplation, “Please, listen to me.”_

_“Fugaku, what if Itachi is right?” Mikoto questioned, “We have no chance! We have to get Sasuke to safety! He is only a boy.”_

_Fugaku scowled and shook his head._

_“Why should I trust you?”_

_There was a distance there, something tangible that Itachi had perhaps never noticed until that moment. But it stretched between he and his father, opening like a chasm, allowing every memory shared, every piece of their history to become a part of that distance. It did not matter that Fugaku had held Itachi’s hands when he had taken his first steps. It did not matter that Fugaku had watched Itachi do the same for Sasuke. Itachi had sealed his own fate, had left every bridge to scorching ruins and every tie like a ribbon weathered by a storm the day he had killed his best friend._

_“Whether you trust my words or not, I am taking Sasuke before the Akatsuki come.”_


	14. Chapter 14

Sakura swiped a finger beneath her eyes before anyone could notice, watching the nurse peel back Sasuke's bandages. He winced as the cool air hit the open wound on his stomach.

"Are you certain you wish to see this, Haruno-sama?" the woman asked. Sakura nodded fervently.

"The practice of medicine is intriguing to me," her voice came strained, but the nurse did not notice. Sasuke's eyes, however, met Sakura's and she tore her gaze away. They both knew why she was really there. The nurse dropped the soiled wrappings into a basket beside his gurney.

"The water should be heated now, I'll return presently," the woman took up the basket and slipped out of the curtains, leaving them alone. Sakura's hand shot to Sasuke's, clutching it tightly with a force that told him she never wanted to let go. Her eyes glanced the table by his bed and she noted that her key still sat there, unattended.

"Are you not pleased to see me?" Sakura asked quietly, watching his brows furrow as he looked at her. She had been there from the moment he had woken up, which was not long ago. He had slept right through lunch, an exhaustion claiming him like no other; it was one that had been enough to silence his terrors for most of the night.

"You should not be here."

"No?" she frowned, "It is my palace and you are my guard; I shall go about my business as I please." 

Sasuke scowled. He tried to look away from her but his neck felt stiff from lying immobile on the bed for so long. She shook her head and sighed. 

"Let me," slipping her hands beneath his neck, she fluffed his pillow, allowing him better elevation.

"You do not need to care for me," he muttered when she resumed her seat, "The nurses will see to that." 

"And if I wish to care for you?"

"It is not your duty."

"No, it is my privilege," she scowled, then straightened her back when the nurse reentered with a pan of hot water and a towel.

"Kusako-san," another woman rushed in through the curtains, breathless, "Yunago-san is hemorrhaging! We need you right away!"

Kusako dropped the pan and cloth at Sasuke's bedside table and muttered a quick 'excuse me,' before both nurses hurried away.

"You should return to your rooms now," Sasuke frowned, watching the curtains still swaying from the nurses's abrupt exit, "There is no point in you staying to watch this."

"Nonsense," Sakura shot to her feet and walked around the span of the gurney to retrieve the towel. She dipped it in the steaming water, wrung it out, then reached for the cut on Sasuke's head. His hand snatched her wrist.

"Do not do this."

"Why?" Sakura’s voice was a quiet snarl, "I am not incompetent. I have been in this very infirmary before; I know how to clean a fresh wound."

In truth, that was not his concern. He was surprised, actually, how the idea of her tending to him was so natural it had not even caused him to blink. But, his fear stemmed from her touch against his fragile, naked skin. He did not wish to be at the mercy of her will in such a condition.

"Why must you torment me?" his hand shook with restraint but Sakura mistook it for fatigue. 

"I am only returning the favor," her words were cold, striking him more deeply than the debris of the explosion had. She tore her hand away, dipped the towel and wrung it out once more. When she reached for him a second time, he did not stop her. Sakura rubbed the marred skin of his forehead, clearing away the blood, and slowly inching her way closer to the cut. He winced when she grazed it. She frowned, brows scrunching tightly and folded the cloth to present a clean side. Gingerly, Sakura pressed the warm towel to the cut and dabbed lightly, "Tell me if it hurts and I will stop.”

It stung terribly, but Sasuke did not say a word. He thought, for a moment, that if he spoke, he might just voice enough to push her away. But he could not conjure a good enough reason to do so in that moment. Sakura set the towel in the heated water once again, twisting the blood and dirt out of the cloth before bringing it to the large, muddled wound at his abdomen. As she had before, she began by clearing away the surrounding area, revealing more of his bare skin inch by inch. She lingered more than she needed to, taking her time with intention, bordering the hard lines of his muscles.

“May I ask you a question?” her hand did not falter in its path as she spoke.

“I do think I could stop you,” he had meant the jab to be lighthearted, but Sakura met his eyes with a sullen expression. She appeared to care for his permission, and would not speak until he gave it. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Yes, you may.”

“How did you know to find me that night?” her fingers shook slightly, but she tightened her grip on the towel until she could not see the tremor anymore, “No one else came for me, but you knew I would be in danger.”

Sasuke breathed deeply, nostrils flaring with agitation. Sakura dropped her eyes as she came closer to the edges of his laceration. It was deep and wider than the one on his forehead, but not as long as she had been led to believe with all the blood. It almost looked to her as though something had become lodged in his stomach, causing a chill to ripple over her skin.

“I did not lie to you,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper. He could not risk anyone hearing, “A man _did_ tell me you would be in danger; he recognized me.”

“If he knew you, then would he not have worked harder to conceal himself from you?” Sakura took care to whisper as well, fearful that the nurses could come in at any moment.

“He did not know me personally, but he knew Itachi,” Sasuke felt himself reluctant to speak further, but he was sure the worst had already been revealed between them, “The man said I was to pay for my family’s mistakes.”

“Why?” Sakura looked up, then, pausing in her movements, “If he was intent on attacking me, why would he care what your family did?”

“He blames Itachi,” Sasuke stopped, watching her open gaze and becoming fully aware of how his next words would sound to her, “For his sister’s death.”

Sakura did not say anything. She did not make a snide comment. Instead, she wrung the towel out once more, turning the water in the bowl a deeper red. Placing the warm cloth over the wound she applied just the softest pressure, but Sasuke lifted his working arm and put his hand over hers, inhibiting the action. She shook her head and screwed her eyes shut, as though she were trying to stave off her own emotions.

“I do not know if it is possible to miss somebody I have never met in my life,” her breath shuddered through her lips, “But I feel that I do everyday.”

He did not have an answer for her, but rather only another question. Was it possible to hold both love and hatred for the dead? He realized in that moment, that he might have begun to question his loyalty to his family. Sasuke had never known the truth behind Itachi’s actions; he had never felt that he needed to. He had always trusted his brother implicitly. But, Itachi had never mentioned a woman, nor had he spoken of his knowledge of the Akatsuki or how he would know they would attack the Uchiha Compound that night. He began to ask himself why the claims of one man, an enemy, might lead him to distrust his own family, but then Sakura took her hand away and pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Why did he have to take him away from me?” her bloodied hands shook as she twisted the soiled rag between them, “How many years did he get with you? Five? Six?”

Sasuke was ushered into silence by her inquiry.

“And I got nothing. My own brother and I can not even carry his memory,” she was trembling violently, eyes thrown to the ground as if he were not worthy of her gaze. He did not feel that he was deserving of her presence then, either.

“I can only apologize for my brother’s actions so often, but there will never be truth to those words,” he said quietly, watching the hair fall in front of her face. He lost sight of her green orbs and it caused an irritation to settle beneath his skin, “I can not apologize for something I know nothing of. It would serve no purpose other than to insult you and that would never be my intention.”

His words ended with a sharp snap that brought her gaze forward. For once, Sasuke was faced with the forbearing expression he always seemed to carry, the quiet stoicism, but in her features, it appeared as a weapon; a corporeal barrier that sprung to life in the small space they occupied.

“You are right, I should not be here,” she set the cloth in the bowl and shook the water from her fingers, before shoving the curtains aside to leave. He did not stop her; he only watched her slip away from him. But his uncertainty did not leave with her and he knew then, that the farmer was not the only reason he had been clouded by doubt.

* * *

The debris had gradually become covered throughout the day by the torrential snow so much so that when Sakura emerged from the infirmary, she looked across her garden, to the other side of the lake and it was as if nothing had occurred there; if only that had been the truth, she thought forlornly. Sakura hugged her cloak tighter, the sharp wind biting her bare knuckles as she trekked back to her room. Kakashi stood outside and, as she approached him, a bemused expression came over him.

“It seems Uzumaki-san is right to keep such a close eye on you,” Kakashi pondered aloud, “You were gone when I returned.”

Sakura gave him a weak smile, but his derisive grin and blunt words unnerved her. Kakashi pulled open the doors and Sakura stepped inside. She ran for her bedroom, locking herself in and kicking off her shoes. She sat with a huff on top of her sheets and sulked horribly. How was it that she could feel so strongly for a man like Sasuke and yet harbor anger against him for the fate of her brother at the same time?

* * *

"We split up here," Sasori spoke with an air of command and pointed at the prisoners with a sharp finger, “Half of you will take the East and the other half will take the West, with us.”

"Do you really think that to be a good idea?" one of the men barked.

"It will make it more difficult for them to catch us," Deidara stepped in with a defensive sneer. 

"But if they do, then we will be outnumbered."

Sasori scowled, eyes narrowing to a glare as the Akatsuki warriors backed away, creating a divide. Almost two dozen men stood as a wall against Sasori, promulgating their allegiance and their skepticism of his. 

“Then pray they do not catch you,” Sasori spoke carefully, slowly as if to a child, “The Emperor does not have enough men to hunt us if we are going in two different directions. I doubt he would send them past his own border, as well; that’s less than a week on foot.”

“Do not carry fear in your hearts,” Deidara stated, “We are not far from freedom.”

The prisoners considered their accomplices for a long moment. Could they trust each other? Sasori and his followers did not carry the brand of Orochimaru’s army, but they had certainly proven some measure of loyalty by defying the Emperor’s will. Though their fealty was faulty, half of the soldiers came to stand beside Sasori.

“Then, we will meet you at the border,” one of the men said before turning and walking to the East.

“I pray they do not find us all,” Kabuto called out as they turned and began to the West.

“Prayers are for the weak,” Sasori hissed quietly, breath freezing in the air. His eyes scoured the white expanse around him, a blank canvas awaiting his artistry, “We make our own fate from here.”

* * *

_“Once for yes, twice for no,” Itachi said, drawing a notch in the trunk of the tree with his knife. He drew two more, close together, signifying the words he spoke. Then, he carved out the shape of an X, "This is a call for help,” he placed the point of the knife between the top two lines of the X, carving out a small divot, “This means your position of distress is in the North. Left would be West, right: East, and bottom: South.”_

_“Did they come for you?” Sasuke asked quietly. It caused Itachi to pause and an unpleasant shadow to fall over him. He kept his back to Sasuke, facing the marks in the thick trunk of the tree. The hand holding the knife dropped heavy at his side._

_“No, they could not,” he said solemnly. He would have left it at that, but the Uchihas were a clan of warriors and Sasuke would be no different. Itachi had sought to protect his brother from the horrors of war for as long as he could, but he had underestimated how much Sasuke had learned in his absence._

_“Because they died,” Sasuke’s words were a statement; he did not need to inquire because he had heard everything from his father. He had heard the tirades Fugaku unleashed about Itachi when the news came to their village._

**You are not like him, Sasuke. I am thankful everyday that you never will be.**

_“Yes,” Itachi said, sparing his brother a slight glance. Sasuke was unassuming and looked up without accusation, speaking so low, his voice was almost carried out with the wind,_

_“Did you kill them, too?”_

* * *

“Haruno-sama, how are you feeling?” Lee approached her carefully, skirting the bench where she sat to watch the sun rise behind the dark clouds, as if he sought her invitation.

"As well as I can be," she answered simply, forgetting manners for the briefest moment and failing to ask him how he was.

"Did you receive my letter?"

She stiffened, her eyes flicking to his quickly. 

"Yes, thank you."

"I had not heard from you, so I was not sure,” he said quietly, "I was concerned."

"Of course," she responded and gestured for him to sit beside her, "I apologize, but I have not had much time to think."

"I understand," Lee took a bold step and, after seating himself, clasped her hands between his, “I do wish you would confide in me; you should not have to bear your unpleasant feelings alone.”

“You speak so boldly, Lee-san,” Sakura swallowed audibly while her fingers twitched in his hold.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” his eyes bore into hers and Sakura found herself tearing away from him. She was incredibly uncomfortable, but she could never admit that, not for her pride and not for her diligent training in etiquette.

“I am flattered, Lee-san,” she blinked rapidly and turned away from him, facing the direction of the wind, because it seemed to be easier than confronting his curious visage, “But I do not - ,”

She broke off. How could she possibly explain it to him? Sakura was not emotionally stunted. She was not without need for connection, obviously. But how could she tell Lee that she had already found that connection, that she already had that person she wished to confide in? As obstinate as he was and as stagnant as they seemed to be at that moment, Sakura could not envision a man to rival Sasuke.

She felt herself choking on her words then, vision becoming blurred as the snow whirled around them, and so, Sakura walked away, bottling every shred of her will that told her to run and incarcerate herself within the walls of her bedroom. She did not hear Lee calling after her as she steered herself in the direction of the infirmary.

* * *

“I do not understand!” Kizashi slammed his hands on the table, a fury inciting his movements, “How have we lost them?! They created an explosion big enough to shake the entirety of my kingdom, stole a horde of _my_ prisoners, and you _lost_ them?!" Kizashi did not wait for an answer, he already had one. He lashed out, striking the papers from his desk. Kakashi stood at the back of the room, watching the line of guards at the unfortunate end of the Emperor's wrath.

"Well?!" the soldiers flinched as his booming voice echoed through the room, "Have you nothing to say?"

"We lost their tracks with the snow," a soldier piped up. He then dared to speak further, pleading with the Emperor, "We do not have the men required to track them down. What few guards I have left have been injured by the attack. We are what is left and we can not leave the palace so defenseless."

The Emperor scowled, a low rumble emanating from his chest; he could not argue. There was little hope for them and it dawned on him like the cold, quiet mornings of winter, desperately slow, but all consuming.

“We need more soldiers,” Kakashi stated plainly, declaring the transparent notion, “Have you considered the Hokage’s offer further?”

“That is a last resort,” Kizashi grimaced, eyes to the floor where he knew the Hokage’s entreaty lay amongst the mess he had made, “One I will not consider at this time.”

“Then, what are we to do, Sir?” another soldier asked.

"Kakashi-san," the Emperor's gaze hesitated, avoiding all attention fixed on him, "Send word to the village of the Sand.”

“Sir, they would not possibly - ,”

“They must!” Kizashi’s voice cut through the space, “Perhaps they are willing to set aside our differences, for the sake of a common enemy. If we can enlist their help, we may have a fighting chance.”

Kakashi nodded brusquely and left the room with the other soldiers. The Emperor sat with a heavy sigh behind his desk, alone for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He placed his head in his hands, the burden of the Empire weighing unsteady on his shoulders, as his eyes began to burn; Kizashi felt the tears hit his palms before he could garner the will to stop them.

* * *

“Haruno-sama, how can I help you?” Kusako approached her as soon as Sakura had stepped through the doors, “If you are here for Uzumaki-san, he is resting now.”

“That is good to hear,” Sakura smiled sweetly. She fumbled with her thoughts for a moment, failing to present a better reason as to why she had come yet again, “M-May I see him?”

“If you wish,” Kusako nodded and ushered her over to his bedside, the curtains having been pulled far apart, “He informed me you helped to clean his wounds.”

“Oh,” she exhaled softly, eyes falling to his serene features.

“You did quite well,” Kusako said with a small laugh, “You do certainly have a knack for it.”

“Thank you,” Sakura offered the older woman a brief glance, recalling the first time she had fallen from her horse and scraped her leg on a branch, “I did have you to teach me.”

Kusako smiled and patted her on the shoulder before leaving her be. Sakura attempted to act inconspicuously as she drew the curtains around Sasuke’s bed before sitting in the chair that still resided from her last visit. She twisted her fingers together in her lap to prevent her restless hands from taking reign. The conflict that raged within her was a difficult thing to quiet and she found that it was largely due to her limitless ability to argue with herself.

Sasuke fidgeted on the gurney, twisting until he winced and his eyes were wrenched open from the pain. Her hand flew to his chest, causing his gaze to lock on her.

“Do not move in a such a way,” she chastised, “You are only going to injure yourself further.”

“Why are you here?” he croaked out.

“I will come if I please,” she snapped; he glared at her for it.

“And if I do not want you here?”

“Do you think you can hurt me more than you have done already?” she questioned harshly.

“If I must hurt you to keep you away then so be it,” he snarled. Sakura recoiled from her placement on his chest with an air of opposition.

“Must you be so crass?”

“If you do not like it, then leave,” he hissed, “I will not put on affectations for you.”

“I have never asked you to,” she retorted, stiffening in her chair, “I do not wish you to be anyone else.”

“No?” his voice lilted as if in an attempt to mock her, “You do not wish me to be born of a different name?”

She stuttered, faltering in her thoughts, but found that she already knew the answer to that question.

“If you had been, I fear I would not love you,” she admitted softly, casting her eyes to her hands, wrung taut in her lap. Then, suddenly, her words came in a passionate tumble, wrought with pain and desperation, “So, you may beat my heart if you feel that you need to, you may strike it as you wish, but I am certain you will only be disappointed. You have already sullied me in ways that cannot be undone and if I am to be punished for loving you then I will hold my head high as they drag me through the streets and cry, ‘Whore.’”

Sakura stood quickly then, slipping through the curtains and muttering under her breath, “Good day.”

* * *

Sakura lay in her darkened room, wound into a weeping mess atop her sheets. How could he be so cruel? To deny her something she had already been allowed to taste, to deny her a passion she had basked in for one brief moment, caused a swell of sorrow to rise within her. She knew his statements came from the same fractured place in her heart that prohibited their indulgences, but it did not make the truth of them any easier to swallow.

* * *

“We should rest now," Kabuto kicked the gathering snow at his feet and looked up to the clouds. A storm was brewing, the sky darkening to near black. He peered back, in the direction of the palace, and saw that it had already been struck by the harsh determination of winter.

"We do not rest until we reach the border," Sasori trudged on, but Deidara and the other men fell behind, stepping beside Kabuto. 

"They will not be able to track us in these conditions," Kabuto had to shout over the howling wind that gathered speed.

“If we stop, we give them the opportunity to gain on us,” Sasori snapped.

"We will not be able to find our way," Deidara added and Sasori growled, breath puffing in the air.

"There is a cave not far from here," he hissed, eyeing the dismal conditions before him; their visibility was worsening by the second. Deidara was right, it was already becoming difficult to find the path home, "If we can make it there, we will be shielded from the storm come nightfall."

"Very well," Kabuto acquiesced and their envoy continued forward.

* * *

She was there when he woke the next day, tired eyes tracing the words of the book in her lap, but her restless mind was unable to retain the information. He watched her for the briefest of moments while she failed to notice he was aware, and then he spoke,

"What are you doing here?"

She was startled out of her reverie and adjusted her posture, closing the journal.

"I came to see you."

He wasn't entirely sure why her admission had shocked him, but he assumed it was because he expected her to be angry with him after the way he had spoken to her; he had not expected to see her at all. He almost wished he did not have to. Guilt and shame were a difficult thing to swallow and they had been lodged in his throat since she’d left. There were not words strong enough to convey how horrible he felt, how desperately he wanted to apologize to her. 

"I've never been upset with somebody I've been in love with," she paused and gave a small laugh; he knew she was thinking that she'd never been in love at all, "But I imagine it is much like being upset with a parent; the love is always there, it is an unconditional thing."

He wanted to protest, to push her away so that she would not wish to see him. She should not love him after the way he had treated her, but he also wanted to hold her close and revel in the way she spoke to him.

"Please," she said quietly, "Do not make me leave."

"Do you really wish to stay? And see me like this?" he was certain he looked as awful as he felt.

"I want all of you," she proclaimed unabashedly, "The good and the bad."

Despite it all, he thought her declaration to be quite bold. He could not look away from her enchanting eyes as she continued to speak,

“I am not better without you,” she shook her head, “And even the pain, unbearable as it is, is a promise that you are here.”

“Is that promise enough?”

“For now,” she answered, “But I’ve told you before, it is not enough to have only a part of you. If I have not left you now, knowing what I know, I doubt there is much else that would cause me to turn away from you.”

He caught her hand, knotting their fingers together.

“I know you would not leave me by choice,” he made sure to put emphasis on his last couple words. It would be a forcible, violent thing that ultimately tore them from each other; the high hand of her family’s power bringing them apart.

“I do not wish to lose you, Sasuke-kun, but I would rather know all of you for only a moment than have none of you for an eternity.”

“And yet, I would rather you survive without me, than perish for knowing me.”

Her thumb stroked his knuckles and she chewed her lip with contemplation, brows scrunched tight.

“We are quite the match, wouldn’t you say?” she frowned, but there was a tone of sarcasm to her words.

“Yes,” he swallowed and spoke slow, “Doomed from the start.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes.”

“Is that bad?”

“I do not know.”

“I would think only the greatest loves, the legacies left by them, are made only possible by the urgency of their impending destruction.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” he said thoughtfully. Sasuke had seen urgency in his father’s eyes the night Fugaku had last looked on Mikoto.

“May I come visit you tomorrow?”

“If you wish.”

“I do,” she released his hand, “But you know that. Do _you_ wish me to come tomorrow?”

Her eyes searched his, but she was not imploring him with a silent plea. She wanted him to make the decision, needed him to. She needed to see that he would put the effort forth to continue seeing her, as she did for him.

“Yes,” the word came out before he even thought to stop it, and when he did think to do so, it became irrelevant when she lit up with a bright smile. Sakura kissed his cheek and stood.

“Then, I will see you tomorrow,” she left his gurney, book in hand, and shut the curtains behind her.

* * *

_Sasuke did not speak, his small knuckles were white with how tautly he pulled at the grass beneath him._

_“Are you upset that I am leaving?”_

_A tear rolled down his cheek and splattered on his knee. He was attuned to the way it rolled down his leg, leaving a cold trail._

_"I do not like this game," Sasuke mumbled._

_"I think it is a fine game," Itachi plopped beside him on the forest floor, regarding his downcast gaze briefly before looking up to the trees that circled above them. The coverage of leaves gave them protection from the sweltering sun and a slight breeze wrapped around them, a cool caress, "This game is best when words fail us."_

_"I think it is silly."_

_"Are you upset with me?"_

_Sasuke looked up at his brother whose eyes traversed the sky as though it were the last time he would look upon it. Sasuke considered the question. He knew he was upset but he also knew, somewhere within his mind, his brother had no control over the situation. He tugged on Itachi's shirt once._

_"Are you upset that I am leaving?"_

_He tugged one more time._

_"Me, too," Itachi said quietly._

* * *

“Put your arm around my shoulder,” Sakura tightened her hand at his waist, fingers folded over his bandage. Sasuke complied, leaning his weight against her gradually, “Ready?”

He nodded and she stood carefully, pulling him up one inch at a time. Sasuke hissed at the pain that shot up his leg and faltered, before putting the pressure on his good foot. Sakura stumbled a bit, trying to accommodate his shifting weight, before finding a firm stance.

“It is not painful if I do not lean on it, but it is difficult,” he hopped forward and she stepped in turn.

“Do you want to sit back down?” her brows furrowed as she peered at him. 

“No,” he shook his head, “It feels good to stand.”

“You should stretch, too, Sasuke-kun.”

“Are you to be my personal physician now?”

“Am I not more competent?” she teased. Sasuke met her amused gaze and his mouth turned up in a small smirk.

“I am content to be your patient,” he murmured.

“Only content?” she asked, feigning innocence. He watched her for a long moment before admitting,

“I can not express how much I wish I could take back the vitriol words I spoke to you.”

“I do not condone your words,” she swallowed and tightened her grip, “Nor will I excuse them, but frustration is a passion as great as adoration. And - ,”

“Often times they are the same?” he guessed.

“Yes,” she grinned, “Or rather, they go hand in hand.”

“I take it I am frustration, and you are ardor?”

“I would venture we are composed of both,” he smirked at Sakura’s words and leaned closer to her. Sasuke caught her gaze dropping to his lips and felt the insistence to kiss her, but once more was caught by his own moral constraint, “Thank you for coming today.”

“Of course,” she smiled, a weak, faulted quirk of her mouth, and stepped just a fraction away from him.

* * *

“This arrived for you just now, Sir,” Kakashi extended a letter to the Emperor, a wax seal brandished boldly on the parchment. Carefully, the Emperor unfolded the paper and began to read. His breath hitched in his throat and he stood with an excited exhale.

“Prepare a company of men and ready the horses,” he spoke urgently, “We leave in three days.”


	15. Chapter 15

"She's not here?" Lee asked, utterly baffled. The palace was a grand stretch of land, but he had so rarely seen Sakura outside of her garden or her sitting room; it had not occurred to him that she would choose to roam anywhere else, least of all with how harsh the winter had become.

"I escorted her to the infirmary when she woke this morning," Kakashi stated, his uncovered eye sweeping past Lee as if he melted into the background.

"The infirmary? Is she all right?" panic seized his voice; was that why she had run off?

“To my knowledge, but she has been making regular visits there," Kakashi saw Lee squirm out of the corner of his eye, before he dashed in the direction of the infirmary and he did not attempt to stop him.

* * *

They were covered once more by the secrecy of the curtains surrounding his bed, secluded in a space that, for the moment, they could call their own. 

"I brought you something from the kitchens," Sakura pulled up a tied cloth from the sack she had carried with her that morning. She pulled apart the knot and revealed a few slabs of seasoned meat, some rice, and a loaf of fresh bread. Sasuke adjusted himself carefully, coming to a seated position, propped up with pillows behind his back. Sakura set the bounty in his lap and tore off a piece of bread. She dressed it with some of the meat and presented it to him. 

"Will you attempt to feed me, too?" he asked with a smirk. 

"If I thought you would let me, yes," she answered simply, "I told you if I could restrain you, I would. It seems my prayers were answered in part."

They both laughed softly at her morbid humor, then he took up the food and began to eat. It tasted much better than the slop they had been feeding him since his stay at the infirmary began. After some silence, he spoke,

"Is your father aware you are here?

"No," Sakura shook her head, "I have not seen him since the attack, but I know he has been quite busy."

"Do you not think you raise suspicion by being here every day?"

"Perhaps," she thought carefully for a moment, tearing off scraps of bread and meat for him; his arm was still in its sling, "I do not want to put you in danger, but I needed to see you. I can not ignore the fact that you are in here. You continue to talk of how your presence in my life can only lead to my misfortune, yet here _you_ sit, at the edge of my sword, so to speak."

"And the predator becomes prey?"

"That would imply you were never prey to begin with," she gave him a coquettish grin, eyes gleaming with mirth as she raked them down his body most ostensibly. 

"How improper you are," his words he uttered darkly, a husky rumble emanating from his chest and he felt a searing heat rush through him; desire.

"And that is something no one could teach me," she stated proudly. Sasuke took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing her gaze back to his.

"Why must you look at me that way?"

"Like what?" she bit her lip, seeming to be genuinely perplexed. He grit his teeth and let her go, shaking his head. 

"It is nothing," he sighed softly.

"Sasuke-kun, what is it?"

"Put it out of your mind."

She breathed deeply, glowering at him in a way that caused his heart to constrict with guilt.

"I wish you would trust me," her voice surprised him, emitting quiet and hopeful, rather than accusatory.

"I have confided in you what I keep from most everyone, how could you think I do not trust you?"

He appeared baffled by her question, but she shook her head in defiance. 

"You have not used that information as a bridge for our trust but a barrier against it. You hide behind both names, trying to distance us further," she was quiet and calm as she berated him, "It is an excuse to keep us apart."

" _You_ see it as an excuse,” he corrected, “But for me it is not so simple. I had never intended for my lineage to be known to anyone other than the Uzumakis."

"Least of all to me?"

"Yes," he nodded, somber, "To be judged by a name for an act I did not commit nor condone, it is cruel."

He looked at her expectantly, but she seemed to prefer to bow her head in shame, rather than meet his eyes.

"It is difficult to separate you from your name."

"Perhaps it would be easier if you do not," he breathed deeply, "Would it not be easier to feel one way about me, rather than to have your heart pulled in two separate directions?"

"I have never known anything else," her eyes were forlorn as they lifted gradually, "I have always been forced between what I desire and what is my duty.”

“I have never had the luxury of desire.”

“Is that why you are so hopelessly lost?” despite the melancholy air around them, she smiled, “You have never been able to indulge yourself and so you do not know how to when the opportunity arises?”

“I suppose,” Sasuke swallowed thickly, thinking of how greatly he had indulged in her not long ago.

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura took his hand suddenly, tightening her fingers with his, “Do you still desire me?”

“Yes,” his throat felt dry as he attempted to think of anything other than how she had writhed beneath his touch on her bed. She fell quiet and chewed her lip, mind racing with thoughts she struggled to voice.

“I can not despise you, and I do not wish to,” she finally spoke, “Between duty and desire, there is no competition.”

Suddenly the curtains were flung apart and Sakura ripped her hands away, whirling about to face a breathless Lee.

“Haruno-sama, are you all right?” his eyes darted between her and Sasuke rapidly, before finally settling on her stiff form.

“Yes, I am fine. Lee-san, what are you doing here?” she rose from her chair steadily, but almost lost her balance when he pulled her sharply into his tight grip. Startled, Sakura pushed against him and Lee’s cheeks turned a bright red as he realized what he’d done.

“Forgive me, Haruno-sama,” he released her as though she’d burned him, “Kakashi-san informed me you had been here frequently - I thought perhaps you had been injured in the attack.”

“I am fine. You need not worry for me,” Sakura smoothed her skirt and spoke softly, eyes darting to Sasuke, “I have been visiting Uzumaki-san; he has valiantly saved my life twice now.”

“A service I am grateful for,” Lee nodded to Sasuke who bowed his head respectfully, so as to hide his gritted jaw, “I was concerned, as well, by the way you had run off the other day.”

“Yes,” Sakura sighed, chin dipping low, before she found the strength to pull herself back up, “As I have said, I am not myself lately. These recent events have put me on edge.”

“Of course,” he held his hand out to her and Sakura took it gingerly, “Let me escort you back to your rooms; you should be resting.”

“I suppose,” Sakura dared to glance back at Sasuke, as Lee held the curtain open for her. She bowed her head, “Uzumaki-san.”

Sasuke kept his mouth shut as he watched them go; he was certain the words lodged in his throat would be most inappropriate if he voiced them. His eyes strayed to the key she had left him. It was a gift, but he began to feel as though he did not belong in her world. He was not deserving of anything decent or good in life and that was Sakura. But Lee, he dressed the part, he spoke to her as one should speak to an heir, and he not only knew his place, but Sasuke’s as well. 

* * *

“Do you think that wise?” Lee questioned bluntly as they began to walk, arm in arm, across the frozen grounds.

“What are you talking about?” Sakura looked up, bewildered.

“To visit him. He is only a palace guard, Haruno-sama - ,”

“He saved my life!”

“He is not worthy of your attentions merely because he has done his job,” Lee said gently, despite the furrow of Sakura’s brows as she glared at him, “Do you not think people will begin to talk?”

“Talk?” Sakura stopped them in their tracks, “Of what? Of my philanthropic behavior? Of how the Emperor’s daughter visited a wounded soldier that saved her life?”

“It is inappropriate,” Lee stated firmly, “Whatever friendship you have with the man is improper for that of a woman of your standing.”

“And what will they say?” Sakura yanked her arm out of Lee’s grasp, “Well?”

“They might think,” Lee huffed, breath puffing in the space between them. He looked away quickly, uncomfortable under her relentless stare. He dropped his voice to a harsh whisper, “They might think it is something sordid.”

Anxiety congealed in her throat, but she forced her eyes to stay on him.

“I will not deny him my gratitude because my people might think less of me for it,” she said with a snarl, then took a breath to compose herself. Sakura began again, “He is a good man and a fine warrior; I will not let fear dictate who I see fit to socialize with. An accomplished leader does not bend to anyone’s will.”

She turned on her heel and took off haughtily down the trail to her rooms.

* * *

Kizashi awaited his daughter in the sitting room of her chambers, Mebuki close at his side. Kakashi stood at the front doors, feigning impaired hearing as they whispered acutely to each other.

“Why must you go so soon?”

"I can not waste any more time while they bide theirs for the next attack,” Kizashi said quietly, “We must - ,”

The door opened and Sakura strode through in a fury, but stopped short when she her parents standing in the center of the room.

“Mother, Father, what are you - ,”

“Sakura, you can not run off like that,” her mother chastised, “You must always stay with an escort.”

“I was at the infirmary,” she bristled, “Kakashi-san knew where I was.”

“He must stay with you at all times,” Kizashi said sharply.

“He is your guard, Father, not mine,” she snapped, “Did you come only to remind me that I must be confined like a pet to a cage?”

“No!” Mebuki recoiled from Sakura’s words.

“Sakura, please,” Kizashi stepped forward and tucked her under his arm, “I know how restless you feel. This war is taxing on us all, but I swear to you, I am putting an end to it once and for all.”

“How?” Sakura looked first to her father, then to her mother, but Mebuki looked away, tears ready to spill over her lids.

“I am leaving to recruit more troops. Gaara has agreed to help us fight the Akatsuki,” Kizashi was beaming, a relieved smile on his face. Mebuki, however, kept her eyes to the window as she began to weep quietly. Sakura’s chest constricted for her mother. She would miss her father, but she had seen before how difficult it had been on her mother whenever they had sustained his absence. It seemed that the burden of rule fell solely upon Mebuki, the balance of power becoming faulted. 

"How long will you be gone?"

"I will return before the commencement of spring," he spoke as if he were making a promise not to her, but to himself; a reassurance that he could vanquish the evil that had risen in his lands.

"Spring is a long way from now," Sakura mumbled, leaning into Kizashi.

"The time will pass quickly," he squeezed her shoulder, "I will be back before you even notice I have gone."

"The time will pass quicker for you," Sakura griped; she was feeling particularly bitter at his departure that day.

"It will be no less painful," he amended, "But it must be done."

Kizashi held his hand out to Mebuki and she took it gratefully. He pulled them both close at his sides.

"My girls, I will miss you terribly," he kissed his wife's cheek and struggled to keep his composure. He had experienced a similar goodbye many years before, when Sakura was still only growing in Mebuki's belly. Kizashi had stood beside his caravan, preparing to embark on a diplomatic voyage. His son, barely thirteen at the time, had come to see him off. It had been a bittersweet goodbye. Eager as he was to see his son become the man he knew he could be, Kizashi was aware that every second away from him meant another chapter of his life missed, another opportunity to bond and teach his son passed up. Kizashi vowed to him that one day, when he was older, things would be different. He was sorry he was never able to make good on that promise.

* * *

"What is it?" Sasuke cut her off mid sentence, the question like an itch working its way up his throat. She looked up from her book, confusion altering to realization when she met his gaze. 

"Sasuke-kun, I - ,"

"Why are you upset?"

"I do not wish to talk about it," Sakura shook her head and looked away.

"Why?" he sounded almost angry when he questioned her. 

"Because I have said so," she snapped, pinning him with a sharp glare.

"And that is reason enough?" he scowled at her. 

"It should be!" her voice crescendoed slightly before she caught herself and dropped her tone to a harsh whisper.

"Why do you hold your title above me now as though I am inferior?"

Sakura stiffened at his words, but kept a steady lock with his gaze.

"I am sorry," her voice was stern as she spoke, "I do not mean to, but perhaps it is because you have begun to treat me as your superior, as a stranger, rather than someone you have shared a bed with. I do not think so low of you, and you should know that, but if you desire to treat me as such then there is little I can do. I can continue to voice my feelings and have them so harshly rebuked or I can save my pride and attempt to find some other ground with you, though it may not be equal. In the meantime, I will continue to be miserable if I please, because you still deny me yourself, because you act as if nothing has happened between us, because Lee-san has begun to suspect something, and because I will be without my father’s presence for months - ,"

Sasuke snatched her hand out of the air, weaving their fingers together, and cutting her short once more. Her mouth hung open, but she shook as she struggled to find the words. Then, her tears came, streaking down her cheeks as she sobbed quietly. Sakura let her head drop forward onto the bed to shield her crumbling visage, whereupon Sasuke moved his hand to stroke her back.

"You have my apologies," Sasuke said softly.

"I do not want them," she spat, "For then it seems as if you are in debt to me and I do not wish you to owe me a thing."

"But I do," he protested, "I owe you a great deal of honesty, something you have awarded me from the start."

At that, she fell silent, only the occasional hiccup of her breath disturbing them. His fingers moved up her spine, a tantalizing, slow sweep up to the nape of her neck where her hair sat in a low bun. A prickle of anticipation ran up her scalp, recalling the phantom sense of his touch, of the patterns he wove as he moved his fingers through her errant strands.

"I was always distraught whenever Itachi left the village," Sasuke spoke quietly, the recollection of such a memory causing an unpleasant coil of apprehension to wind in his stomach, "When he left for war, I was terrified I would never see him again."

"Only once have I ever feared that my father would not return," her voice cracked, "Now, I feel only a longing for his attendance and guidance if he travels."

"I felt that, too," Sasuke said gently, "My brother always seemed to me the voice of reason where my mother might have been too emotional or my father too cynical."

“How peculiar," Sakura looked up at him, eyes wet with fresh tears, "My father is the emotional one. My mother has always held more common sense, I think. She is the head on his shoulders and he is the heart."

"And which do you think is more important?"

"I might have once thought the heart, but I know now there is a balance achieved by both," she said pensively.

"What did Lee-san say to you?" Sasuke let silence settle between them for only a moment, until the question burned his tongue.

"He thinks I will instigate inappropriate rumors by visiting you," she rolled her eyes, then settled them back on Sasuke.

"He might be right."

"I know," she bit her lip and shook her head, "Perhaps that is why I became so angry with him. I feel guilty, but I was only trying to protect you."

"How thoughtful," Sasuke mused, his thumb brushing her cheek, "I am certain Lee-san was concerned only with your wellbeing."

"It does not change the fact that he was very rude about it."

"I would have been, too," Sasuke grimaced, "If the subject concerned you and another man."

She struggled to quell the warmth that burst like sunlight through her at his words. It was not fair, she thought, for him to say such things to her. It was not fair for him to touch her that way, so tender and true, like a gift bestowed upon her.

“I suppose I should apologize to him,” she was unsure if she wanted to, but she thought, at that moment, that Sasuke might have been her voice of reason, despite his jealousy.

“Do you want to?”

“I do not do well with swallowing my pride,” she frowned.

“I think humility becomes you,” Sasuke smirked.

“Do you think everything becomes me?” she had meant it as a bout of sardonic humor, but Sasuke answered seriously,

“I do.”

“Even jealousy?”

“Perhaps most especially,” he shook his head flippantly, “But we have already agreed that I am selfish for taking pleasure in these things.”

“I did not agree to anything,” she said haughtily and laughed. Sasuke smirked.

“Of course, you are also incredibly gifted when it comes to breaking the rules.”

“You are not a rule, Sasuke-kun,” she said sternly.

“I am less than that,” he spoke softly, “I am a bump along your path to the throne; you have not yet made it past me.”

“And I do not wish to. I hope I am forever stalled at this bump, forever rendered inept by you.”

She placed her hand on his chest, leaning forward so that there was hardly a space between them. He could feel his lips aching to touch hers, felt himself leaning toward her, but she slipped away, glancing his cheek with hers.

“You can continue to speak in such a way, you can continue to demean yourself if you like, but you will change nothing of how I feel for you.”

Her skin was warm against his, filtering a sense of calm throughout his body and Sasuke’s hand inched toward her waist, petting the fabric there lightly; he was fighting against an inferno of desire, a tempest of passion that urged him to give up and give in.

* * *

Sakura sat at her table by the window, quill in hand and a small well of ink beside her parchment. She found herself struggling with words that night, though it was customary for her to pen a letter to her father that he could carry with him while he traveled. But, for the life of her, she could not think what to write. What more could she say to him that she had not already expressed? She would miss him dearly and she would find comfort in the simple things in his absence, like perusing his office or reading over his notes until her eyes went cross.

At least she had Sasuke now, she thought, in some manor or form. Perhaps he could provide her company if she got terribly lonely. Or perhaps, she bristled, he might push her away again. The thought caused a pitiful ache in her heart and through her body. Did he not understand how deeply she felt for him? Her pen hovered above the blank page; had she not been clear enough?

* * *

“I would venture that my gratitude to you will extend past my physical life,” Kizashi sat heavily beside Sasuke’s gurney with a sigh, “And I am afraid I have one more favor to ask of you.”

“You owe me nothing, Sir,” Sasuke shook his head, keeping the Emperor’s gaze with great difficulty. He found it a startling challenge to look Kizashi in the eye and attempt to justify his feelings for Sakura at the same time.

“Nonsense,” Kizashi waved his hand, “I am a man of my word; you shall have your promotion upon my return.”

“Your return?”

“I depart tomorrow morning for the Village of the Sand. I have been driven to a near point of desperation by these soldiers called the Akatsuki,” the Emperor seethed, “Forgive me, but I have few men I can trust within my company. I daresay, if you were feeling better, I would have you join me. Then again, I doubt there is a man I trust more to watch over my daughter.”

Sasuke felt himself go cold. No, he thought, not again.

“I am taking a large number of guards with me; I must show my people that I have not been weakened by these insidious attacks,” his brows furrowed tight, forehead crinkling with stress, “But that leaves the palace vulnerable.”

Sasuke fought the urge to flinch away from Kizashi; he knew the question he was about to be posed.

“I need somebody I can trust by her side at all times. Will you do me this service once more? Watch over her for me until I return and I promise you any position you desire. I will even send you to war as a general of my army,” The Emperor implored him, but, even if he could not say no to a ruler like Kizashi, Sasuke could not refuse the joy that spread through him at the notion of his proposition. He chastised himself for the elation he felt, attempting to beat it down until he found some shred of revulsion or fear to propagate. But, the reality was that the Emperor would be gone for months - a journey to The Sand was a long one, spanning treacherous trails - and there would be very little to pull Sasuke and Sakura apart in that time.

“Of course, Sir,” Sasuke answered and the Emperor exhaled in relief, as if he had expected a different response.

“Thank you, Uzumaki-san,” he stood slowly, raising himself vertebrae by vertebrae, “I wish you a swift and easy recovery.”

Sasuke opened his mouth as Kizashi turned away, ready to wish him the same for his voyage, but stopped short. He let the Emperor leave without uttering a word as the guilt reared within him, rendering him speechless.

* * *

“Do not take it so personally, Lee-san,” Karin simpered, “She has not been herself lately. I am certain it is not _entirely_ about you.”

“Oh, do not tease him so,” Ino laughed, “The poor man has lost his love.”

“I have not lost anything,” Lee protested, “But I have made her upset and I do not know how to rectify that.”

“Apologize,” Tenten said simply, looking up from her scrolls as they sat about a table in Mebuki’s sitting room early in the morning. Though the Emperor’s wife was not present, the space had always been something of a public area that the courtiers used at convenience.

“It is not that simple,” Hinata piped up, “Knowing Sakura-chan, an apology is not enough.”

“She can be rather stuck up,” Karin whispered and threw a look over her shoulder, although the room was mostly emptied.

“Do not say such a thing,” Lee snapped, recoiling from her words.

“That is not what I meant,” Hinata did her best to glare at Karin, but she could not hold it for long, “I simply meant that she will need to know that you are not only sorry, but that you understand what you did wrong.”

“What is it you did wrong?” Karin asked, brows piqued in curiosity.

“I - I do not wish to say,” Lee blushed furiously and looked away. Ino gasped and hid her shocked expression behind her hands.

“Did you kiss her?!”

“No!” Lee’s face went red, balking at Ino's uncouth inquiry.

"Do you not want to?" Karin grinned maniacally. 

"I shall not discuss such sordid details with you," he harrumphed, brows narrowed in a glare. 

"Ever the gentleman," Ino smirked. 

"Oh, leave him alone," Tenten scowled, "He will go about courting her as he desires, at his own pace."

Lee's gaze went around the table as each lady gave their perspective on the situation. He frowned and wondered if any of their conversation, or rather how much of it, would make its way back to Sakura. After all, gossip was practically a courtier's job.

* * *

“I found myself thinking of you late last night, as I do,” she shook her head, avoiding his gaze. It was as if she were struggling against her own words. 

“Me?”

She nodded.

“I suppose I was restless,” she fumbled with the paper, stroking her thumb over its texture, “I find that penning my thoughts often helps when I get that way.

"What is it you write of?"

"It does depend what I am thinking of," she turned her eyes to the blank curtain, "Or who. I always write my father a letter to take with him when he travels, so that he knows I will miss him and will think of him everyday. I wrote a poem when one of my fish died, but it was not very good. I have written a lot, actually, nothing polished, only disorganized thoughts or notes, but I have never written a love letter. Is that not odd? Of all the declarations of ardor I have received, never once have I felt strongly enough to write a reply of affection."

"And have you written one now?" Sasuke's throat went dry. 

"I was compelled to," she said, as if she needed to create an excuse for the action.

"What does it say?"

"It describes a feeling that I have never been able to articulate properly," still she could not look him in the eye, "It is terrifying and exhilarating all at once. It makes my knees weak and my heart quicken," she began to stumble, trembling in the wake of her thoughts, “But it is the most beautiful thing I have every experienced.”

“Is it?” the words scratched the back of his throat, anticipation razing his nerves, but she did not answer.

“Here,” she placed the parchment in the palm of his hand, gaze slipping to his where she saw a passion no longer dormant, “This is for you.”

He closed his fingers around hers before she could pull away and drew her a breath apart. Sasuke claimed her lips with a burning kiss, the fire of his need scorching to life like a plain ravaged by a draught. Sakura wound her free hand around his neck as he lifted her as best he could onto the gurney beside him. His injured arm ached from the strain, but his demand to have her close weighed greater. She curled into his side, chest pressed against his and legs intertwining.

"Sasuke-kun," she pushed away from him gently, "Why?"

He stalled her, catching her lips again, but she broke away. 

"Why are you doing this?"

"It is inevitable," he murmured, "I can not keep away from you."

"And yet you try," she whispered, breath stolen by his insistent lips.

"A wasted effort," he admitted. Sakura smiled and wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging his mouth back down. They moved against each other, lips locked in an unbreakable coupling, eliminating any space between them and struggling against the ache that begged them to come closer.

* * *

A hidden smile and flushed cheeks accompanied Sakura as she entered her sitting room, but they were quickly stolen when she saw the Emperor sitting by her window, thoughtful visage lit by a single candle.

“Is everything all right, Father?”

“Sit,” he gestured to the other chair, “Let us talk.”

“Of course,” she couldn’t help the prickle of fear that began at the thought of what she had just done with Sasuke while she took her seat.

“You know I do not wish to leave you,” relief washed through her, “It is only because I have to.”

“I know,” she said solemnly, “I am sorry I was so upset earlier.”

“Is anything wrong?” for a moment, Sakura looked into his eyes and saw her own reflection. She saw herself, as a little girl, looking up at her father, flourishing from his guidance and counsel.

“No, it does not matter now,” she shook her head, and grinned at him, “Will you bring me something from the Sand?”

“I could bring you a husband,” Kizashi smiled with mirth, voice lilting to a teasing tone, “Gaara has taken his father’s place and he will be needing a wife to rule at his side.”

Sakura clicked her tongue and turned her head away.

“I would not survive in that place,” she grumbled, “And I garner my aspirations are far more grand than his.”

“Oh, do not be so harsh on the boy,” Kizashi batted at her words, hand waving in the air, “There is nothing wrong with being content in your role in life.”

“I suppose,” Sakura chewed her lip; she did not wish to converse on the subject further.

“I know you will choose a husband when you are ready,” Kizashi smiled and Sakura softened. She could never voice just how greatly she appreciated her father’s support, but she wagered that he had a limit to her apathy and she was certain they were nearing that limit. It was only a matter of time, “Remember what I taught you?”

“An accomplished leader does not bend to anyone’s will,” she recited and he nodded proudly.

“Not even their own,” he finished for her, standing to pat her shoulder as though she needed some consolation; it was a struggle not to cringe from those words and Kizashi left Sakura’s room with them echoing in her ears. Sakura did not have a problem, she felt, standing her ground against others, but she knew she was willful. She knew she was impulsive when it came to her own desires. As a ruler, she would have to act for the benefit of her nation, stacking a person’s life against that of the greater good. She stared out her window, lost in the blanketed world winding into a quiet calm and wondered:

What if that person was Sasuke?


	16. Chapter 16

_"I do not know what to do," Kushina said quietly, "This is the fifth time this month."_

_Sasuke sat on the front porch of the Uzumaki's secluded cabin, hidden deep in the countryside at the foot of a mountain range. Beside him, Naruto was twirling a rock in his hand and babbling about the way it shined in the sunlight. But Sasuke’s attention was drawn to the harsh whispers just on the other side of the front door._

_"I know," Minato spoke softly, "Perhaps he should go with Naruto. They will keep each other safe.”_

_“We promised them - ,”_

_“But things have changed! We are not living in the same world; no one is safe anymore,” Minato snapped, finding that his patience had vanished as they came upon a familiar topic of recent days, “It is only a matter of time before we are forced into another hole to hide like rats!”_

_Kushina gave a broken sigh and Sasuke heard her footsteps as she paced restlessly._

_“The Emperor is our only ally now - ,”_

_“And the Uchihas were his greatest enemy,” she said sharply, “Greater than the Akatsuki have been. They may be attacking his lands, his people, but Itachi_ took _something from him that was irreplaceable. If you think he will have mercy on the brother of his son’s killer, you are a fool!”_

_“It is our only choice!” A deathly silence followed Minato’s outburst, but he soon collected himself and continued on, “What would you have us do then?” his voice dropped low to a despondent whisper and his shoulders slumped, but he kept her in his gaze, “The Emperor will know him only as our second son; he will have safety in our name.”_

_“Itachi begged us to keep him away - ,”_

_“Itachi is gone! Dead!” Minato growled, “And we are perhaps the better for it!”_

_“Minato!” Kushina hushed him, “How can you say that? The Uchihas were our friends, they were your greatest allegiance to Konoha.”_

_“No,” Minato shook his head, “The Emperor was, and he has been incredibly gracious to offer our son such an opportunity. The Uchihas may have been our friends, but Itachi forsook his clan, he destroyed every loyalty they ever built. That is not Sasuke’s responsibility, and perhaps with time he may come to understand that. He may even come to understand what his brother has done, but for now, he will thrive better in anonymity.”_

_“Minato, I - ,” Kushina shook her head as she struggled for words._

_“I am trying to keep us out of harm’s way,” he took a heavy step toward her, encircling her in his arms, “Naruto will be under the watchful eye of the Emperor; you and I will disappear. We cannot continue to live this way, in limbo, surviving day to day and never looking to the future, never knowing if each hour will be our last.”_

_A thickening silence grew and Sasuke pressed closer to the door to hear them._

_“I am sick to death of these wars,” Kushina said sharply, “It is not fair to our children. They are born into it, trained for it, and if they do not die in that war, then they will live long enough to see another started,” she fought to keep her composure as a powerful rage shook her. Minato tucked her head beneath his chin and wound his fingers tighter at her shoulders, “I thought we might finally see an era of peace after you were appointed, but I had underestimated the cruelty of this world and the vicious nature of the people within it - ,”_

_“Sasuke,” Naruto said sternly, pulling him back from the door, “It is not kind to eavesdrop.”_

_“They were talking about us,” Sasuke protested._

_“That is not our business,” Naruto chastised him, causing Sasuke to scowl._

_“They were talking about my brother,” he snarled and stood, “That_ is _my business.”_

_Naruto frowned and watched his friend with a tentative gaze. He recalled when they had played together as kids, when they had accidentally destroyed Mikoto’s tomato garden and also when they had discovered Fugaku’s weaponry cabinet. The two had been known for their mischievous behavior and inseparable ties amongst their villages, but things were different now. While Naruto found himself still clinging to those memories that shimmered like the brilliant stone in his hand, Sasuke seemed all too eager to leave them behind, most especially with the approach of his twelfth birthday. He had grown restless and increasingly solitary the older he became. With each day that progressed, Sasuke seemed to grasp the fissures of his past with more and more clarity, and it only appeared to further his isolation._

_Sasuke turned away from Naruto as the silence became unbearable for him. He started down the porch and rounded the edge of the house; Naruto did not stop him._

* * *

Sakura owned only one black jūnihitoe, reserved for the most rare of occasions like a death or, in the case of that day, when her father left on one of his journeys. Despite its layers, it was a very plain silk, made up of no discernible patterns, that dragged like an ominous shadow behind her. The long sleeves billowed with the wind, but Sakura braced herself like a mountain against it. She stood beside her mother in the snow at the gates to the palace, waving somberly as her father’s convoy pulled away. She remembered how she would run after the carriage when she was little, right up to the edge of the trees, which happened to be the spot her mother would always catch up to her. For a moment, Sakura felt her heart leap, urging her to run after her father, just as she used to, but Mebuki was clinging to Sakura like an anchor and, as the Empress drew herself up, her chest swelled with the responsibility she now assumed.

“I had thought,” Mebuki’s voice wavered and she cleared her throat softly, tearing her gaze away from her husband’s retreating fleet, “Perhaps it might be nice to enjoy a quiet dinner, just the two of us, tonight.”

“That sounds lovely,” Sakura smiled up at her mother and nodded, “I look forward to it.”

“Wonderful,” Mebuki kissed her daughter on the cheek and followed her husband’s advisors to his sitting room. Rather than see her mother go, Sakura turned back to the gate, watching as it shut with a loud clang. Though the wind raged on, she continued to brace herself against it, enraptured by the ghost of her memories and the sorrow she felt gradually creeping in.

* * *

Sasuke watched the sky from the window nearest him as the day pressed on and realized, to his ardent dismay, that Sakura was not coming. He knew she would be occupied in the morning, seeing her father off, yet, even as the time to lunch came and went, he found himself still hoping. Perhaps he would see her, he thought, just outside through the glass, walking around her garden. Perhaps he would catch her, when she was smiling at something a courtier said. Just a glimpse - and then he realized he was more than thinking or hoping, he was praying for it. He needed it, just one moment with her.

But he knew, even that would never be enough. Frustrated, at himself, at his desires, and at her incessant hold on him, he shut his eyes, willing sleep to claim him.

* * *

Sakura wept quietly as she watched the fire, ceasing to clear away her tears. It was pointless to try. She and her father shared a great bond; she had always felt his absence quite heavily. Sakura rested her cheek against the warm hearthstone, heedless of the ash that might lose itself against the void of her black dress or muddle her fair complexion. Surrounding her crumpled frame were a myriad of books and journals, material things that could only occupy her thoughts temporarily. She had given up attempting to distract herself from the melancholy that polluted her mind. So, she watched the flames dance, twisting about one another, devouring each other with every sharp crackle.

How pitiful, she thought, to be so consumed by grief that she could only lay immobile on the floor. If Sasuke could see her, what would his impression be? Though she did not think him capable of humiliating her, she still felt a wave of shame wash over her at the state she was in. She could not allow herself to continue like that; it was improper for a woman of her stature.

Sakura shot to her feet, dusting off her gown and rubbing at the dirt on her cheek. With a sense of determination, she gathered her skirts and took off for the infirmary.

* * *

He was sleeping somewhat peacefully atop the sheets when she entered. They had taken the time to redress him in a cotton shirt and drawstring pants that Sakura could not help finding odd on him. To see him in anything other than his uniform was jarring - well, perhaps, she thought, not _anything_. She pulled the curtain closed and heard him stir at the sound of its rungs scraping against the steel overhang.

Sakura went to the side of his bed and seated herself as his lids blinked open. She laid her hands upon her lap and offered him a small smile.

“Good evening,” she spoke softly.

“Is it evening?” Sasuke rubbed his eyes with his good hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It is past twilight,” she murmured and watched as his gaze finally settled on her. She caught his eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in her morose attire; she had not given herself the foresight to change. His orbs traced the dried tears that tracked over her cheeks.

“Do you not have a curfew?” his lips twitched as though the words uttered seemed not to be the ones he had meant to speak.

“You of all people should know I almost never do as I am told,” her mouth quirked upwards. Sasuke shook his head, struggling with himself for a moment before reaching for her.

“I do not think I have ever seen you so solemn,” his hand settled over hers, encasing her fingers that gripped the silk of her gown as though she meant the fabric harm. 

“No?” she sighed and released her dress, turning her palm up to meet his, “ _Do_ you see it? How it hangs over me like a cloud? I fear my condition will only worsen; it always does.”

Her eyes shimmered softly as she swallowed and he knew she had contained a sob. Sakura cursed herself silently; she had come here to distract herself, not to recount her sorrows.

“Will you walk with me?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” she stood quickly, eager to be free of her own captivity, “Down the hall, yes?”

“No, outside,” he nodded his head in the direction of the window hidden behind the curtain, “In your garden.”

“You are not well enough for that,” she clucked her tongue, but proceeded to help him sit up. He was silent as he swung his feet over the edge. She took his arm around her shoulders and, gingerly, he placed his weight on his feet. It was getting easier, he realized, but there was still the gnawing pain of battered muscles and limbs that plagued him. He slipped away from her, limping around to the other side of the gurney, and she hissed at him, “Sasuke-kun, let me help you.”

He sat back on the bed and leaned over with a wince as he grappled for his boots with one arm, his other still in its sling, shaking his head at her all the while. He gave no care to lace the shoes, simply shoving his foot forward and coming to stand once more. When he turned to face her, he saw her hands stretched out towards him in anticipation. Her gaze wavered from his eyes to his feet as though she expected him to fall at any moment. Instead, he stepped forward and peeled back the thick curtain.

“Will you walk with me?” he asked again, “Outside.”

She huffed and bit her lip to silence her smile. She stuck her chin up as she glared at him. Just beyond the threshold of the curtain, the hospital operated as if it never slept - recently it had not had the luxury - and so no one paid them any mind.

“If you insist,” she gathered her skirt and walked forward, paving the path to the doors. Sasuke followed, watching her back and catching the way her concern betrayed her pride as she cast her eyes back every so often, ensuring he still stood tall. With the nurses continuing to bustle back and forth, attending to the weary, they were able to slip out without so much as a word. And as they stepped outside onto the snowy scape, the world around them quieted. The sun had already dipped below the mountain range and so they were bathed in darkness with only the moon to light them as it weaved in and out of the cloud’s coverage. The wind stirred the snow at their feet and ruffled the edges of Sakura’s skirt, but she seemed not to mind as she was transfixed by her frozen land.

"You have said you do not fare well in winter, but the cold does not seem to bother you,” he had not taken his eyes off her as he extended his right arm. Her gaze dropped to his offering and she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. The garden slept around them, not a soul in sight to witness their exchange. Without the Emperor's presence, the palace seemed far more deserted than usual.

“Perhaps it is because you are here," she mused softly as they began to walk at a measured pace, "To keep me warm, to entertain me and exercise my restless spirit."

"Is that all I am good for?" He hid his smirk, but she caught on quickly. 

"You do have other purposes," she produced a cheshire grin as they came upon the icy lake. Though he found those urges for her never dormant, he felt them spring to life with new force as she called up all too familiar memories and his resistance was waining, though he knew it had never been particularly resilient in the first place. He thought she might goad him further, but instead, she spoke somberly, “I will admit, though, I get anxious the closer it comes to my birthday."

"Anxious?"

“Another year gone,” she spoke plainly, a tired monotony claiming her voice, “Another year wasted behind gallery walls.”

Sasuke felt the silence lay heavy and thick between them; he pulled her closer to his side.

“Have you ever thought of running away?” he had meant it as a joke, but Sakura did not laugh.

“I tried to, when I was younger. I did not get very far,” she fixed him with her bright eyes, concealing something in her gaze.

"What possessed you?” he wondered aloud, shocked by her confession.

"I became betrothed,” she said somberly.

An audible choke came from Sasuke and Sakura burst into a fit of laughter. 

"I am only kidding," she giggled at the relief that flitted over his face for the briefest second, before he caught himself, "You should have seen your expression."

"I doubt very much that I would want to," he scowled at her, "Do you laugh at me?"

"No," she stifled herself and slowed their pace, "I only think it amusing that you are so composed most days and yet you seem to struggle around me."

"So you are laughing at my expense?" he smirked, but looked away from her piercing eyes.

"Only a little," she stopped them by the bench that sat beside their willow tree and looked up at him. Silently, she compelled his eyes toward her, “I have never tried to run away. I do not think I have ever sincerely felt the need to. And, truthfully, I do not know what I would do if I did.”

Sasuke remained silent, only listening and thinking; he could conjure a million things to do if he only stepped outside of the palace’s walls, though he knew them all to involve a life of solitude. 

“But now I have had my fun,” Sakura said with a hint of glee to her voice, “Tell me, Sasuke-kun, how are you faring this winter?”

He grappled for an answer, but felt the words barrel past his lips before he could stall them.

“Not well.”

“Why is that?” Sakura took his hand in hers, worry furrowing her brows, and led him beneath the frozen branches of the willow tree that swung softly with the quieting breeze. His heart raced as his mind called up the sordid memories of what once passed between them in that very spot.

"I face trials I never thought I might encounter," he spoke slowly, as if he could not comprehend what he was saying.

“Trials?” her brows furrowed in unbidden concern. Then, realization dawned on her and she pulled away from him, “I suppose I am the cause, is that correct?”

“Almost entirely,” he answered, the admission passing without judgement through his lips, “And yet, I do not think I would want it any other way. I have never felt so conflicted in my life,” he frowned, words stinging his tongue as he spoke them, “Am I meant to feel this way for you if I am who I am? As a lowly soldier? As an Uchiha? Am I allowed to look upon you the way I do without consequence? Knowing who my brother is, are you allowed to feel such things for me?"

“I - I do not know. I know only that I want to continue to feel this way, forever, for always,” she sighed and bit her lip, then asked softly, in awe of his turmoil, “Why do you not voice these questions to me? Why do you insist on suffering alone, in silence?"

“I have never known anything else. If I do not - ,” his jaw went slack as he became lost in his own mind.

"If you do not?" she prompted, fingers clutching the hem of her sleeves, "What will happen then?"

"Then I may lose all self-control,” he swallowed harshly, hesitating as he inched towards her, "And that is all I possess now."

"And if you lose control?" she pressed, stepping so that she stood before him and allowing her hands to rest on his chest, "What would happen then?”

His fist clenched, jaw tightening as he struggled to look away, but her gaze was too powerful; orbs of such a vibrant green that rivaled the essence of spring, hypnotic in their hold on him.

She was breathless as she asked, "Would you kiss me?”

His eyes fell to her lips, plump and rosy, as they parted for him. She looked voracious, as though she could devour him right there, and it caused a scorching blaze to rise within him, laying waste to his heart.

Then, her voice came softer than the snow that fell around them,

"Would you hold me?"

Sasuke's good hand shot up, winding around her fingers, nearly crushing them against his chest. He leaned forward, inhaling her intoxicating scent as his nose skimmed the line of her neck. His lips brushed her jaw as they trailed up to her ear and she shivered at the touch. Sakura suppressed a moan as her mind recalled how soft and urgent his mouth could feel on her. She felt his teeth tug at her flesh, a harsh nip, then the heat of his sharp breath fanned over her lobe and he whispered darkly,

"I would _ravage_ you."

If he had not had such a tight hold on her, Sakura knew she would have dropped to her knees in the snow, weakened by the heady desire in his voice. His words echoed like a tune she could not shake, crescendoing to a pyre of pure, poignant need that razed her body. 

"Would that be so bad?" the inquiry cracked as it slipped out of her lips, "To feel your touch, wholly, with immeasurable conviction - to know those moments so intimate and beautiful that even the greatest writers fail to capture their quintessence, to know those with you - Sasuke-kun, I - ,” Sakura trailed off, head tilting against his. She ripped one of her hands free to twist her fingers in his hair, nails gripping to a point of pain, but he did not complain. She shut her eyes tight, brows scrunching in frustration, confusion, contention, and sighed heavily. 

"Would it be so terrible to know what it is like to be wanted so completely?” she asked humbly.

He did not want to pretend in that moment, he did not want to play games with her and counter her inquiry with one of his own. He did not want to imply that she was naive if she thought she was not wanted, because he knew that was not what she meant. Lee wanted her, courtiers wanted her, men across the land wanted her, but Sasuke wanted her, too, and that was something else entirely; it was a passion that could never be rivaled. A growl rumbled in his chest as he clutched her ever closer,

“It must be," his lips caressed her neck before he pulled back, her fingers loosening from his hair. His hand released hers slowly, letting it fall back at her side. Sasuke appeared as though nothing had just transpired between them, only the depth in his eyes and frailty of his voice betraying him. He was hoarse as he spoke forlornly, “If it wasn’t, then it would not feel so good.”

Sakura watched him with barely concealed longing. She watched the way he bowed his head in shame and the way his chest swelled with each deep, shuddering breath. Then, he started to turn away, hand stretching out for the branches of the willow tree.

“Do you know I have dreamt of it?” she asked suddenly.

“Dreamt of what?”

“Of you ravaging me,” she said hastily, as if it were a sin to keep those words to herself. He stilled, “Every night, Sasuke-kun. Every endless, damned night you are always there.”

“I know,” he agreed, but closed his eyes as if he could shut her out of his senses.

“Every night I hope you will be there,” her voice wavered with the honesty of her words.

“I am sorry I have disappointed you.”

“No,” she shook her head and reached for his back, smoothing her hand up the length of his spine, “I am not disappointed, only lonely. Now, more than ever, I need you.”

“Please,” Sasuke whispered, muscles tensing to coil, and Sakura pulled her hand back, “You must not allow me such hope.”

“If I am not able to give you anything else, then I wish you to have that,” she spoke stubbornly. Sasuke turned, regarding her briefly, and extended his arm.

“Come, I will escort you back to your rooms.”

Without hesitation, she took his hand, but the walk back was paved with trepidation and silence.

* * *

"Are you all right, dear?” Mebuki’s knife scraped unpleasantly against her plate and on any other night it might not have bothered Sakura so much, but the discordant sound caused her to drop her silverware with a huff and close her eyes.

“Not entirely,” she said quietly, lids fluttering back open only to stare at her half-eaten meal.

“You have always taken it so hard when he leaves,” Mebuki said forlornly, reaching across the table to squeeze Sakura’s hand, “Perhaps it would do you some good to be in better company.”

“Better company?” Sakura laughed, putting a finger to her temple, “You belittle yourself, Mother.”

“No, no,” the Empress shook her head, “Not me. I am talking about your visits to the infirmary.”

Sakura stiffened in her chair, gaze shooting to her mother’s.

“It is a dismal place, don’t you think?” Mebuki asked innocuously, “Your time would be better spent around your friends, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Sakura’s throat felt thick, guilt congealing in her blood, “But I do find it fascinating, you know, to be in such an environment.”

Her mother shrugged and waved her hand as though she could brush away Sakura’s statement.

"Lee-San was asking for you today,” Mebuki said, diverting the conversation.

"It seems he is always asking for me these days.”

“He has always held a genuine concern for you,” Mebuki beamed, “Such a lovely gentleman he has grown into.”

“I suppose,” Sakura mused, eyes straying to the window beside them, though she could not see much in the dark night.

“You suppose? Don’t you fancy him? Even a little?”

“Oh, Mother,” Sakura shook her head and placed her palms on her cheeks. She sighed heavily, “I do not know. He is very sweet, but I just think - Well, would it not be more exciting to experience a more passionate romance?”

“Passionate? Are his letters not enough?” Mebuki quirked a brow, “Did you know your father wrote me every day for two years while he was at war? He had enough passion to fill a chest in my bedroom.”

“But it was made more special because of the distance, yes?”

“If you asked Lee-san to go to war for you, I am very certain he would acquiesce.”

“I would not ask that of anyone,” Sakura tutted, “But the very fact that he would comply is precisely my point. I do not want a man who will cross oceans for me because I say so, I want a man who will cross oceans for me because he wants to and because he knows that I would do the same for him.”

“Such a fierce proclamation from a woman barely courted,” Mebuki teased with a smile.

“Perhaps it is my lack of experience all these years that has allowed me to mold my desires so acutely,” Sakura countered.

“Well said,” Mebuki took up her glass, raising it to Sakura in commendation, “In these moments, I am reminded how much of your father’s daughter you truly are.”

Sakura smiled, breaking through a contemplative frown and said,

“But thankfully, I inherited your sense of humor.”

Mebuki laughed with her daughter, relishing in their shared loneliness and the unearthing of a long since unvisited bond that still tethered them through the years.

* * *

Sasuke turned the key in his palm, running his thumb over the notches and cuts. It was all at once a delicate symbol of trust and a fierce forging of loyalty; something that he hoped he would be the only one to possess. His eyes raked over the key gratuitously until the nurse reentered, and Sasuke closed his fist tightly, the teeth of the metal digging into his flesh.

“It would be my recommendation that you stay a few more nights, but I understand you must be tiring of this scenery,” she said in a banal tone, looking up from the sheets of paperwork in her hand, “If you would like to leave, you may. I just ask that you visit us daily and that the sling stays on until we say so.”

“Thank you,” Sasuke nodded and heaved himself up from the bed as she left. He dressed himself quietly, slipping the key into his pocket, anticipation pooling in his stomach for what he was about to do. And when he stepped outside he found the biting cold did nothing for the heat boiling under his skin. He trudged the familiar path to Sakura’s rooms and halted before her doors. He knew a guard stood attentive in her sitting area and so he rapped his knuckles against the wood and waited. He saw the trepidation of the door and the man behind it, for who could be knocking at such a late hour?

“Uzumaki-san?”

“I am to take over your shift,” Sasuke assumed all the authority he could in his voice, “The Emperor has requested it personally.”

“Oh, I was not aware,” the guard pulled the door open fully and stepped aside to let Sasuke in. When he walked into the light, the man’s eyes fell to Sasuke’s arm still in its bandaging. Sasuke fidgeted and straightened his stance; too many days spent in the hospital had caused him to slouch, “Have you recovered well?”

“Well enough,” Sasuke’s tone was clipped. He was far too anxious to put on pretenses and niceties.

“Should I stand watch outside?”

“No, you may go,” Sasuke said, somewhat forcefully. The soldier nodded and took his leave. There were benefits, he thought, to carrying the title of Uzumaki. His surname had purported a hierarchy with his fellow guards and Naruto’s position as a general had certainly garnered an amount of respect he had never known before.

Sasuke shut the doors behind him and turned the locks. He walked to the other end of the room and hesitated as he came upon the entry to her chambers. He fished the key out of his pocket and held it to the keyhole, but was rendered immobile. His heart hammered in his chest and a sickening mixture of fear and desire brewed in his stomach. He bowed his head against the door, his breath labored, and heard the faintest sounds coming from her room. Was she crying? He knew she had been earlier, and the thought was enough to spur him to action. He pushed the key forward and turned it sharply, yanking the door open.

For only a brief moment he saw her splayed across the bed, limbs shaking as her fingers dipped to that most sacred place between her thighs and saw her lips parted as they moaned his name, then she was scrambling for the sheets to cover herself. He wished he could rip the sheet away and leave her bare to his ravenous eyes. 

“You call for me,” a sense of marvel had wound itself about his words.

Sakura tried to steady the beat of her heart and the rapidity of her breath as she nodded.

“Every night,” she admitted softly, a timid smile brightening her features. 

“My apologies,” a slight smirk turned up the corners of his lips, “I think I have been out of earshot for some time.”

Sakura’s smile faltered; she attempted to think of some witty remark to continue their repertoire, but she fell short, shaking her head. He inched forward slowly, coming to sit beside her on the bed. She reached out to touch him, following the stubble along the sharp line of his jaw and he closed his eyes, seeming to bask in her touch as he angled his chin toward her.

“You came,” was all that made it past the thickness in her throat; she had never known elation to be such a heavy burden. He nodded, but did not mention to her that no one could have stopped him. Sasuke brought his hand to her neck and pulled her forward, taking her lips with his. She was careful not to lean her weight into him too much as she maneuvered herself closer on the bed. With his arm still in its sling, it prevented him from indulging in his desire completely, “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Yes,” his thumb stroked her cheek; how could he deny her when she looked at him in such a way? Her half-lidded eyes were trained to him, fearful that she might miss something if she dared to look away. Her smile was gone, but only so that her lips could part and lay in wait for his. Her bare chest swelled with deep, anticipating breaths. She was waiting and wanting, caught in the clutches of her desire, but bound by apprehension.

Sasuke kicked off his boots and pulled his legs up onto the bed. She took hold of his shirt, unbuttoning it carefully and slipping his good arm out of the sleeve. She tossed it aside and he seemed to have no care until her hand fell to the zipper of his pants. He caught her wrist, a sharp intake of breath through his teeth.

"I cannot," he did not want to add the word, though he certainly thought it, 'yet.'

"Then we will not," she answered simply and smirked, "I promise you will not have to fend me off in the middle of the night."

"You think my willpower to be stronger than it truly is."

"I know it," she said softly, slipping out of his grasp to lay back on her bed. He leveraged his weight on his good arm and did the same, moving beside her, "I know you are strong. If you were not, you would not have come tonight.”

“I could think of no reason not to.”

Sakura beamed, her hand coming to caress his cheek. He leaned in to kiss her, winding his arm about her waist to pull her flush against him. Despite the ache she had aroused in his trousers, he felt contentment seeping in at the proximity of her body to his. With lips fused, they coaxed desire from one another, pushing and pulling, allowing it to ebb and flow between them. And as her fingers intertwined at the base of his neck, they fell into a languid, blissful state all their own.


	17. Chapter 17

“Are you not tired?” Sasuke’s fingers swept along an endless path from the lobe of her ear to the slope of her shoulder while his gaze remained trained on the door across the room.

“I have become accustomed to restless nights,” Sakura murmured against his chest, her fist curling over his sternum, “As of late. I wish you were the only one haunting my dreams.”

Sasuke’s ministrations halted and she felt his grip tighten as his hand slid down her arm.

“They will not harm you,” his words came with a deadly stealth, but Sakura shook her head.

“They already have. They have claimed my sanity, my resolve. These men,” Sakura spat, “These soldiers of the Akatsuki, I despise them for having such power over me.”

“You must not allow them to keep that power,” he said firmly.

“How can I not?” she asked incredulously, “When I have no solace to call my own, when I have no means to defend myself - How am I to fight these men if I have not the tools?”

Sasuke bristled and met her wide, probing eyes.

“You _want_ to fight them?”

“Should I not?” Sakura shot up sharply, peering down at him, her hand still clinging to his chest, “These are _my_ lands that they ravage, _my_ people that they kill. If that does not make it my fight - ”

“Even if it does, battles are often not waged by those who ignite these quarrels.”

“You think my family responsible for this war?”

“No,” Sasuke shook his head solemnly, close to biting his tongue, though he found that difficult to do around her, “But they had a hand in it, yes.”

Silence fell where Sasuke had expected Sakura’s protest. She pulled away from him, retreating into herself.

“So I am to remain idle? As I have the entirety of my life?”

“Not idle,” he assured her, “But as a pillar of strength for your people.”

“A pillar,” Sakura scoffed, “An object to be marveled at, and yet the foundation it was built on is often forgotten,” her resolve strengthened, “These people are my foundation, my father is my pillar, but I will not be a silent ruler. I am borne of their strength,” she breathed deeply, nostrils flaring, “And their strength is what I will carry to _my_ battle.”

Sakura watched the shift in Sasuke’s features. A story played out, led by his admiration for her, which was promptly followed by his fear, his anger, his apprehension, perhaps not for her, but it still elicited defiance within.

“Do you think it is not my place to speak of such things?” Sakura questioned, “Do you think me naive? That I might romanticize war?”

Sasuke swallowed harshly and struggled to push himself up so that he might meet her level gaze.

“Perhaps,” he did not wish to offend her and he thought her naive on the subject only because she was raised in such a way, “But it is not your fault.”

“You might be right. There is only so much one can learn from literature,” she sighed heavily and looked away from him, “It is one thing to know of something, but to experience it - ”

“Why would you want to experience war?” Sasuke fought to understand her reasoning.

“I suppose in some macabre manner, it is because I am bored,” her chin tilted down, hiding her eyes from him, “I wish to understand things other than this life.”

“Death is not a thing to wish for.”

“And yet you, as a soldier, deal in it so impertinently.”

“Perhaps I have become accustomed to it,” Sasuke reached for her hand; she squeezed his tightly.

“Does it not haunt you?”

“I am haunted by things worse than death.”

“Like me?” Sakura asked lightly.

“Precisely.”

“Is that true?” She turned to him in disbelief.

“I am haunted by things I can not have,” the marvel in her eyes was not lost to him.

“But that would mean you want me,” Sakura teased, running her fingers over the palm of his hand.

“Is that difficult to fathom?”

“Yes,” Sakura admitted, “At least, until you come back to me.”

“I suppose I have developed a habit of chasing you,” he smirked.

“I do not mind it,” she giggled as his hand moved up her arm. He followed the slope of her shoulder to the nape of her neck to pull her into a kiss, but she stalled him, “What else do you wish for that you can not have?”

Sasuke sighed, his breath fanning over her lips. He pulled back to meet her gaze, but he shook his head, the words lost to him. 

“Please,” Sakura murmured, “There are many things I still wish to know about you and often times I do not know where to start. I must take my chances when I can,” she pondered for a moment, then, through his silence, she continued, “Sasuke-kun, if there is anything worse to hear than your name, I should like to hear it now.”

“Before what?” he mused.

“Before I fall any more in love with you,” she stated without any frivolity or pomp about it. He admired her a long moment before he spoke.

“I suppose that would be the kind thing to do,” Sasuke smirked; kindness was never something he had likened himself to.

“Do you think yourself capable of that?” she finally teased. He chuckled and it caused a smile to spread over her face, but as his thoughts caught up with him, along with the weight of her questions, he quickly grew somber.

“Sakura, there is not one thing in my life that I have wanted that has not been taken from me. Nothing has turned out like I imagined it would when I was a child,” he lost her gaze as he bowed his head, “Itachi, my parents, they painted a very different picture of my life before everything happened. They told me I was destined,” he huffed, “For great things. I would venture that is what most parents tell their children, but I truly believed it. And when Itachi left - nothing was the same after that.”

“When did you meet Naruto?”

“I had always known him, and his family. Itachi had arranged for me to leave with Naruto and his parents, but we could only hide out for so long. I do not know where they are now,” Sasuke shrugged, but the expression on his face suggested he was not as flippant as his gesture, “Of all the things that could have happened to him, I am grateful that Naruto is only at war.”

Sakura did not press him when he fell silent, rather she took up his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to comprehend a loneliness that she herself had never felt before. It was different from what she knew, from what was familiar. In her loneliness of misconception, she was comforted by the environment around her. The palace grounds were hers to do as she pleased, the garden was an extension of herself, and it dawned on her then that she was more disturbed by the Akatsuki attack for how they had robbed her of that possession. It was not her life she feared for, but instead her repose.

She thought she had understood Sasuke’s loneliness, but it was a different matter entirely. It was as though someone had set a candle before her, a small, flickering flame to light the darkness. But that same person had forbade her from reaching it; all she could do was watch as the flame trembled and slowly died.

* * *

The Empress shook as she held the letter in a tight grip. Littered on her husband’s desk were identical parchments with similar words that all promised the same threat. The Hokage’s seal was broken on each one. She stood abruptly, the gilded throne scraping against the stone floor as she pushed away from her husband’s desk. She tore at the parchment with harried fingers as she marched over to the fire whereupon she tossed every scrap into the embers. Mebuki watched the paper curl, writhing as if in pain. The words written upon them were so vile she wished briefly that she could cause them pain in turn. She huffed, what an irrational thought. As the letters blackened and turned to ash, she did not move, rivaling the flames before her with the rage that stirred within her. She could not distinguish who she was more upset with; the Hokage for making such an odious request, or her husband for not telling her of the man’s intent.

* * *

That morning, as the light crept through her curtains, filtering through every slit it could find, Sasuke decided he despised the sun. If there ever was an enemy, it would be that immortal illumination that came with every new day, shooing away the darkness that coveted his time with Sakura.

Nonetheless, he slipped away from her and took up his shirt. He struggled to slip it on and the rustling caused Sakura to stir. 

“Must you leave already?” she rubbed her tired eyes and crawled over to him, the sheet falling from her still naked form.

“I am expected at the infirmary,” he paused his movements to peer at her as she pulled herself up to sit, “If you are attempting to persuade me to stay - ”

“I would not stoop to such tactics,” she feigned offense and tossed her hair over her shoulder to expose more of her pale skin, “How dare you accuse me!”

“It is either that or you truly have no modesty.”

“Not where you are concerned,” she admitted with a sly smile and moved to stand before him, assisting with his shirt, “Will you be at the infirmary all day?”

“I do not know,” he answered, as Sakura finished pulling his arms through his shirt, “I was released only on the condition that I return for a daily check up.”

“May I - ,” Sakura huffed as Sasuke began buttoning his shirt, “Well I would like to see you again today.”

“Is that so?” Sasuke attempted to hide his smirk; for once he was playing coy. 

“It is,” she grinned, “And I dare say, as your superior, I command you to visit with me once more today. At least.”

“My superior,” Sasuke mused and paused his fumbling fingers; he could not wait to be rid of the sling. His good hand rose to her cheek. He thumbed her jawline before dropping to the delicate slope of her neck. His hand tensed against her, but she could sense his restraint without the flex of his knuckles. She sighed heavily and leaned closer to him. She watched his gaze drop to her lips, irises darkened to near black by his primal need, “Very well, Sakura.”

He resumed buttoning his shirt and stood, peering down at her with carelessly concealed lust.

“I will be back tonight, but I do not think it wise for you to visit me at the infirmary,” he grimaced as her face fell, but before he could say anything she spoke up.

“I understand, Sasuke-kun,” she stood from the bed and walked up to him, placing her hands on his chest, “Until tonight, then.”

“Until tonight,” his good hand came up to squeeze hers and she smiled.

* * *

“We’re not far now,” Deidara stoked the fire as he spoke. The men around him were quiet, merely staring into the flames, losing themselves within the light. They were famished, restless, and exhausted. While the promises of glory, of becoming heroes when they returned home, were becoming less of the pipe dreams they once were and more of the tangible future that lay before them, it was the scarcity of food in the winter that was beginning to make them certain they would never see that future. It was only the fear of disloyalty that kept them on their path.

* * *

“I was not expecting you to come for your check up,” Kusako smiled as she redressed the bandage on his leg.

“Why?”

“Most of your kind,” she huffed and wound the gauze tightly around his thigh, “Soldiers I mean, usually hold too much pride to come seeking help.”

“This is necessary,” Sasuke shrugged as Kusako tied the bindings and rose to her feet. She unhooked the sling holding his arm and set it aside. Slowly and with great care, she straightened his elbow, keeping a firm grip on his forearm.

“The Emperor’s daughter once said the very same thing to me,” she chuckled. Sasuke smirked, he supposed that didn’t surprise him. “Even still she carries the same independence.”

Sasuke couldn’t agree more, given that she rarely did as she was told. Kusako bent his arm at the elbow slowly and Sasuke winced, but she did not apologize, only repeated the motion until the pain began to dull. 

* * *

Sakura meandered through her father’s halls, admiring the tapestries that hung from the walls. She hadn’t visited the gallery in quite some time. There was rarely a soul within that part of the grounds during the winter, as that building seemed to keep the cold air much more than any other.

As a child, Sakura greatly enjoyed exploring the many rooms with her father, as he retold the valiant tales depicted in silk and cotton fibers. When she often wandered away, without fail her father would be able to find her seated beneath her favorite tapestry; the image of a man, her brother, seated atop his horse, sword in hand, as he rode into battle. The embodiment of a knight, a man of honor, and on a gilded mantle beside the artwork held his very same sword alongside its sheath. It was the only thing of her brother’s that still remained in that palace.

Before the war those grounds had been their home most winters; as many royal families did, they moved with the seasons. But the last palace her brother had called home rested beyond their reaches now, overtaken by the Akatsuki, and so the remainder of his belongings were lost to them, forever.

Sakura touched the hilt, her fingers skimming over the gold that twisted like a ribbon around it. She followed the hilt to the blade that sloped on either side and curved to the sharpened tip. The steel was as clear as any mirror and her father had often encouraged her to look into it just the same. He had told her that her brother’s spirit resided in that sword and if she stared at the blade long enough, she would be able to see his reflection. She had never been sure when she was younger if she ever had seen him. But as she did so this time, she was certain all she could see was her own green orbs staring back at her.

There was confusion and naivety within them, as well as a fragility that unsettled her like nothing ever had before. It irked her terribly, and she desired to do something about it.

* * *

The barracks were remarkably empty when Sasuke arrived, but then again, the majority of his fellow soldiers were accompanying the Emperor on his journey. And without Kakashi to lead them at the palace, many seemed to default to watching over the Emperor’s wife, while the rest remained in the infirmary.

It seemed as though the courtiers outnumbered the guards, something that would have previously been a problem for Sasuke. Now, it seemed those odds were working in his favor. There was a chance that every other soldier would be too busy to notice if he came and went as he pleased from Sakura’s rooms. A chance. Sasuke pulled his pack out from under the bed and set it atop his sheets.

Was that good enough for him?

* * *

“Lee, come now, you must make amends with her,” Tenten urged him, pulling at his sleeve as they neared Sakura’s quarters.

“Yes, Lee, you must,” Ino pouted, teasing him, “Seeing as you’ve made such a mess of things.”

“Have I really?” Lee blanched, “Has she said something?”

“Not a word,” Ino giggled, “That is not like her. You must have really done it this time.”

“Oh shush, do not torture him so,” Tenten chastised Ino, “Simply apologize to her and all will be set right.”

Sasuke stood back from the occasional crowds that bustled along the walkway as he watched Lee and a pair of Sakura’s ladies approach her doors. He had every intent now, his pack slung over his shoulder, of returning to Sakura sooner than they had agreed, but found he was not the only one with that same urge.

A series of rapid knocks startled Sakura and she quickly shut the entrance to her bedroom, before racing to open the doors to her sitting room. Ino, Lee, and Tenten stood expectantly at the threshold, awaiting an invitation. Sakura peered over their shoulders before ushering them in, searching for the person she hoped would be at her doors instead.

“Sakura-san,” Tenten spoke sweetly, “Are you all right? We have been so worried.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered promptly, shutting the doors behind her and turning to face them, “Why?”

“Well, we haven’t seen very much of you lately,” Ino said plainly, “I know how greatly you value your privacy, but we were beginning to think something was bothering you.”

When he didn’t speak, Ino’s elbow brushed Lee’s side in a gentle nudge. 

“Yes,” he muttered gingerly, “Is something the matter?”

“Not at all,” Sakura shook her head, oblivious.

“Well,” Tenten laughed boisterously, “What a relief! Come, Ino, Karin will be expecting us.”

She linked arms with Ino and began pulling her towards the doors.

“Yes, a relief,” Ino’s eyes darted to Lee several times before she finally turned to follow Tenten, “We should not keep her waiting. Good day, Sakura-san!”

The door shut with a loud bang that led way to a thickening silence, but Sakura cracked a smile as it dawned on her what her ladies were attempting to do.

“How sweet of them to worry,” Sakura said with a simper, “How very thoughtful of them to come down here in this weather, _simply_ to tell me that they held concern for my wellbeing.”

“Yes,” Lee had difficulty meeting her gaze. He shifted his feet and folded his hands behind his back.

Sakura’s smile faltered; he truly felt remorse for the words he spoke to her. She could not tease him, she realized; it would not be fair. 

“You do not need to apologize to me,” guilt gnawed at her stomach as she spoke, “I should apologize for being so cross with you.”

“No,” finally he looked at her and the hope in his eyes pulled at her heart, “I was out of line. I - I should not have said such a thing. It was - ”

“A mistake,” Sakura amended, “We both made a mistake.”

“Yes,” Lee sighed, relieved, but Sakura felt as though a noose were tightening around her neck, “I know you are not capable of such things. I know you are honorable and selfless.”

“I am not - ”

“You are,” he insisted, stepping closer to her, “In my own jealousy I was blinded by reason. Uzumaki-san is a fine man, I am grateful for his services. But I could not help feeling envious that he was awarded your attention,” Lee laughed at himself, “I suppose I felt neglected.”

Sakura bowed her head to hide her shame. His words were causing her blood to run cold.

“I am sorry if I have been thoughtless as of late,” she said softly.

“No, do not be sorry. You must be so distraught without your father. _I_ am sorry for causing you unnecessary strain,” he sounded so sincere as he spoke, but Sakura still could not bring herself to look into his eyes, fearful of what lay there.

“Lee-san, you speak so considerately of me.”

“It is because I know you!” he insisted, “I know you are so much more than you present to the world.”

“You should not presume such things,” she murmured.

“I am certain of it,” he continued.

“How?” she challenged.

“Because I love you,” Lee said it so simply that Sakura had to replay it in her mind over and over until the words sunk in. Her heart stopped as a cold grip took hold of her body. She began to shake her head, but stalled the motion. It took several gulping breaths before she could find the will to speak, and when she did, she lifted her head.

“Love is depraved,” Sakura peered thoughtfully at him and noted the kindness that always seemed to reside in his eyes, “You are not depraved.”

“Would you like me to be?”

“I would not ask you to be more or less than who you are.”

“And yet I would be anything for you, change anything for you,” he professed.

“You should not have to.”

“But I would!” he insisted, advancing on her, taking her wrist boldly.

“You should not say these things so lightly,” Sakura lowered her eyes from his intense gaze and pulled against his grip, but he stayed his hand.

“It is with the immeasurable weight you have placed on my heart that I utter these words to you,” he pulled her hand against his chest, pleading though she could not see the desperation he held within him.

“I am sorry I have left this weight with you,” she muttered, skin beginning to flush.

“No, you mustn’t be sorry,” he pleaded, “Without you I would not know love.” 

“You do not know it now,” she flinched from her own words as she wrested herself free.

“How can you claim that?” he asked without accusation, only earnest.

“Love should not be spoken, it should be felt,” she said sharply, unable to contain herself, “It is something shared, it is desire and anger, pain and suffering, and - ,” she swallowed harshly, but was unable to quell her need to speak her next words, “And happiness - it is a bliss the Gods themselves could not conjure. It is not something that can be put into simple words, try though we might, because it is not a simple thing. Love,” she lost her breath when she saw the look on his face, “You do not _love_ me, Lee. You cannot.”

As the silence stretched, Sakura thought he might ask why, after all he opened his mouth to speak, but instead he turned from her and left her chambers.

* * *

Relief swelled within him when Sasuke saw Lee leave her quarters, and with a discouraged look on his face, as well. He waited until Lee had walked a good distance away before approaching her doors. He knocked only twice and the entrance flung open, an aggravated expression on Sakura’s face greeting him. But then it softened as she realized who stood before her.

“Sasuke-kun,” she breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him into her sitting room, taking care to lock the doors behind her. The area was dark, except for the fireplace that crackled; she had pulled the curtains over the windows. Fear gripped Sasuke for the briefest moment as he set his pack down.

“Did he do something to you?”

“No,” she turned from him and began a pace as she spoke, “But, Lee has told me he loves me.”

She did not look up to see his reaction, though Sasuke had grit his teeth and clenched his good fist. He could not speak, for what could he possibly say to that? What did she want him to say? Lee came from a noble family of good standing and fine breeding. It was easy to picture him beside Sakura, but it was a truth, Sasuke thought, that was very difficult to swallow.

“Why must you tell me this?”

“Because I am afraid!” Sakura exclaimed, coming to face him, her eyes brimming with tears, “I am terrified of what this means. If he decided to pluck up the courage to propose to me, he would have my mother and father’s blessings in a heartbeat. And what am I to do then?”

“You would accept his proposition,” Sasuke answered with a forced monotone.

“How can you say such a thing?” she searched his eyes, those endless black pools that threatened to swallow her every time, “How can you look at me like that and say those words?”

“What else am I to say, Sakura?” he became exasperated, holding his hand out as if she could offer him some manifestation of a solution to all of their problems, “I am nothing to your family. And if they knew who I truly was then I would be less than nothing to them.”

He softened when he saw the tears begin to fall down her cheeks. His good hand reached for her neck to pull her close and she wrapped her arms around him. She took a shaky breath, frustrated.

“I do wish you would do as you please - with me, at least,” she whispered.

“How do you mean?” they pulled apart slightly, only so they could look into the other’s eyes.

“If you wish to kiss me, I wish you would do it,” her voice grew stronger, “And if you wish to touch me, then I wish you would touch me. I wish you would touch me as one does a lover,” he did not flinch when she said that, “I wish you would ravish me, raze my skin, my very soul with your hands; for I am yours and no one else’s,” his heart swelled as she said those words, but all he could do was look at her, “Sasuke-kun, I know you are tempted, too.”

She stepped back from him and pulled her hair free from its bun. Her long rosy tendrils fell around her in a single wave. Her fingers began making quick work of the buttons at the front of her robes, shedding each layer of dress until she stood bare before him. The hitch in his breath and the slip of his gaze did not go unnoticed by her. She took up his good hand as she stepped toward him and raised it to touch her breast. Without her command his fingers tightened slightly.

“Was it not pleasant?” she gasped.

“What?” his throat was dry, scorched by his desire for her. 

“When you touched me like this?” her hands went to his chest to unzip his vest. She began to tremble when his thumb brushed her nipple, “When you put your lips upon me, was it not pleasant?”

“It was,” he affirmed; Kami, it was.

"It is just us now,” his hand slipped below her breast to follow the curve of her waist, “You may touch me as you please, you may touch me without consequence - ”

“Sakura - ”

“Who would find out?” she challenged him, “More than half the army resides with my father and the others are either sleeping or posted elsewhere. And what’s more, the only two keys to my chambers reside with the only two people occupying this room.”

To that, he could not argue. He pulled her body against his, claiming her lips in a kiss that demanded they share everything they had to offer. Sakura was all too eager to oblige. With great care not to disrupt their kiss and difficulty with his sling, Sakura removed his upper layers. The touch of bare skin spurred them into movement as they quickly broke away to retreat to her bedroom. 

Sasuke urged her to lay back on the sheets as he kissed a path down her neck. He relied solely on his good arm to support himself while his lips moved to her breasts, to press light, teasing kisses upon her skin. Sakura’s breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes at the sensation of his tongue meeting her nipple. But as soon as he bestowed that pleasure on her, he took it away, coming to sit back on his heels. Though, just as quickly, his fingers began inching up her thigh. Sakura’s heart quickened merely at the prospect of what he might do.

“I have wanted this for longer than you know,” he admitted. She opened her eyes in time to catch the lascivious glint in his as he spoke.

“Your self control is admirable,” her breath hitched before she could continue when his thumb brushed over her clit.

“But you do not care for it, do you?” Sasuke teased with a smirk. She shook her head, at a loss for words when he circled her entrance. As he slipped a finger inside, she gasped and clutched the sheets beneath them, “I thought not.”

His finger curled and retreated only to invite a second to further his torment of her. Her warm, tight walls clutched him desperately as she cried out. He moved closer to her, continuing the rhythm of his fingers, and passed his tongue along her wet cunt. Sakura released the sheets, her hands flying to his hair to twist and urge him on, but he pulled away. She whimpered and bit her plump bottom lip in frustration. Her hair was already mussed from her slight writhing on the bed, her cheeks flushed with passion, her eyes alight with desire and longing.

She was breathtaking.

“How you break for me,” he whispered, the words falling sinfully from his tongue. He thumbed the waistband of his pants and Sakura’s gaze dropped, as if she dared him to rid himself of the obtrusive garment.

“Do you intend to keep me on the edge like this?”

“Only so you might know how it feels,” his eyes darkened as he unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper, “Every moment I am with you, every moment that I cannot _touch_ you is an endless torment.”

“Then you are always at the chasm of satisfaction?” she questioned with a coy smile, moving to kneel on the bed before him. She hooked her fingers in the belt loops of his trousers and pulled down. His cock fell free, thick and swollen with his own need for her. He cupped her chin and lifted her eyes to his.

“Always.”

* * *

“Another letter from the Hokage, My Lady. It has just arrived.”

The Empress extended her hand gingerly to receive the envelope. She turned it over carefully, examining the seal imprinted in the crimson wax. She paused, her finger at the seam, ready to tear it.

“Is there a reason you are still here?” Mebuki questioned, without raising her eyes to the messenger who stood just behind her guards.

“The Hokage has requested I await your response, Your Highness. I am not to return until I have it,” the messenger stammered slightly, taken aback by her directness.

She did not respond, she only broke the seal and unfolded the parchment as she removed it:

_ To the Esteemed Ruler of our Great Lands, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well, as I am afraid I did not receive a response to my most recent proposition. I understand you must be quite occupied, but I am certain it is the same thing that keeps us up at night. The Akatsuki have devastated our provinces for too long now and together I am assured we can forge a stronghold that even the most fearsome of enemies could not penetrate. Though, I am forced to take your lack of correspondence as refusal. Once more I offer you this proposal; your daughter is of a reputable age and I have no doubt you shall want her to marry for privilege and for the bastion of your rule. I offer this to you as a last chance to fortify our households against the Akatsuki. Should you refuse, then, I daresay, you will be left to your own depleted military resources. _

_ With my best regards, _

_ Hokage of the Provinces of Konoha _

Mebuki folded the parchment down and took a deep breath. She stood from her husband’s desk and took a steady pace to the fire. She gripped the mantle in one hand and crushed the letter in the other, then threw it into the flames below. She steadied herself before she spoke.

“You may tell your Hokage that if he wishes to insult my family with such propositions he should do it in my presence, as any proper man would. He is too busy, no doubt, hiding behind his walls for the fear he holds for my husband. I do not blame him for that, surely he knows where the allegiances of our people rest,” Mebuki stalked back to the desk, her footsteps emphasizing the finality of her words. She placed her hands flat against the wood, “I would sooner trust a child with the fate of our nation than I would that deranged man.”

The messenger stood rigid in his place, awaiting another onslaught of defamation of his Hokage, but it did not come.

“That is all,” Mebuki took her seat and resumed her previous task, looking over the papers littered on her desk, “Escort him out.”


	18. Chapter 18

_Gold._

_Dazzling._

_Rich in color and blinding in its beauty._

_It twirled around the grand room, stopping only for moments at a time, and never with the same person. Sasuke was supposed to be watching the Emperor, but instead he was watching_ her _. Sakura’s laughter paved her path across the grand room. The jewels dangling from her headdress spun with her every movement, though her hair was so tightly wound atop her head that hardly a strand fell out of place. Through all the evening’s festivities she had not stopped for even a breath and between all the swaying bodies, Sasuke’s eyes had followed her adeptly. She twirled from partner to partner, dancing with all the skill her instructors had passed on. And though she never left his vision, he imagined he could not have touched her even if he had tried. She appeared a deity among mortals that evening, a goddess gracing him and the courtiers with her benevolent presence. In every sense of the word, she was an enigma. But perhaps if she had stood immobile, waiting for him, in the center of an empty ballroom, her hand outstretched. . ._

_Then, quite suddenly, she turned. Her sharp eyes locked with his and froze him in place. Sasuke’s blood rushed to his cheeks and Sakura broke into a brilliant smile. But all too quickly, she was swept away again. The brief connection they had shared was enough to force his gaze away. He could feel his skin heating at the embarrassment of having been caught. How humiliating. . . But surely he had not been the first whose eyes had lingered on the Emperor’s daughter. She was a vision; an absolute, radiant -_

_Sakura crashed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet, but he caught her in his arms. Even as he urged her to stand, she stumbled in his hold, grasping at the sleeves of his uniform to steady herself. One hand rested on the small of her back, the other clutched her elbow and a hundred eyes fell on them at once; yet neither one had noticed. With a boisterous laugh she attempted to right herself and turned her head upwards,_

_“Pardon me,” she giggled and he caught the scent of saki on her breath as she spoke. It was clear she might have had too much to drink. At the time, he had chocked it up to her youthful exuberance. Looking back, though, the signs could not have been more evident. Her nerves had gotten the better of her. Even then she had already begun feeling the oppressive weight of her life’s purpose and she was doing what she could to block it out, to numb herself, even if only for an evening._

_“I should have seen you coming,” Sasuke shook his head and steadied her, but she held on to him for a moment more._

_“Perhaps if you had not taken your eyes off of me,” her words dropped out with a coy smile and she turned to slip back into the crowd. But the crowd no longer glittered and gleamed in their finest silks. They had become a throng of black clothed, faceless beings that loomed over him. Slowly, her shimmering gold dress vanished from his sight, taking with it all the brightness that had illuminated the room before. He was enveloped in darkness._

_Suddenly, a booming voice reverberated through the black space._

_“What is your name?” The voice demanded. Sasuke listened intensely, but could not pick out who it belonged to. Not one of the figures had moved. He did not answer._

_“What is your name?” They asked again. The room was still, as if they stood attentive, with bated breath to hear his answer. Uchiha Sasuke. He mouthed the syllables, but nothing came out. He tried again. UCHIHA SASUKE. Still, the words failed to carry past his lips._

_“What is your name?” Their tone was softer now, almost encouraging. It coaxed a different name into his thoughts, a new name. A name that bore with it neither sorrow nor destruction. And yet the name sat unpleasantly on his tongue, like a bad taste he could not rid himself from. It was not the name he wished to speak._

_“What is your name?” It was a woman asking him. She was kind and her voice broke through the bleak expanse before him; a beacon calling out to him, creating a shaft of light that splintered through the darkness._

_Uchiha Sasuke._

_But, he could not shake the fury, the hatred, the consuming heartache that threatened to tear him apart at the mention of that name._

_“Sasuke, what is your name?” Kushina slipped a finger under his chin to pull his gaze. Suddenly he was sucked out of the darkness and dropped into the last home he had ever inhabited._

_At sixteen, he almost towered over his adoptive mother, but he could not meet her eyes, so he looked past her, fixing on the peeling paint in the corner of the room. It had started as a small chip in the wall, until Naruto had picked at it enough to peel it back, revealing the faded wallpaper underneath._

_“Uzumaki Sasuke,” he answered finally, “First born, first of my name, of the house Uzumaki.”_

_A static quiet followed his words, and then Naruto stepped into the room._

_“Why does he get to be first born?” Naruto griped through a mouthful of his apple._

_“Sasuke_ is _older,” Kushina sighed at her son’s childishness and busied herself with straightening the creases of Sasuke’s uniform. When the fabric settled, she fixed a hand on his shoulder and reached for Naruto, “I’m very proud of you both. It is a heavy burden that you must bear, but together you are made stronger,” she paused, then added with a snarky tone, “And a difference in age does nothing to change that.”_

_Naruto stuck his tongue out and Sasuke smirked in response; at least he would not be alone at the palace. It would comfort him to have Naruto by his side, as it had these many years without his clan. In truth, he knew that he had only made it so far due largely in part to Naruto’s support. Sasuke wasn’t sure what he would do without him; Naruto was the only brother he had left and the Uzumakis were the only family he could claim. But Sasuke was restless, eager to be out of hiding, even if it was under a false name._

_“Now, Sasuke,” Kushina sobered herself quickly, her gaze filled with a mother’s worry, “When you arrive, speak only to Kakashi-san - both of you. He will bring you before the Emperor and you will introduce yourselves as the Uzumaki brothers. Whatever you do, Sasuke, you must not reveal your true heritage. The courtiers living in the palace were all raised there, but most of the soldiers come from Konoha. You must make sure that none of them recognize you and you must give them no reason to suspect anything otherwise,” she paused and squeezed both of their shoulders, “I do not want you to go, but you will be safer at the Emperor’s side than in hiding with us. And, at least in the palace, you will have a chance at a better life.”_

**DECEMBER**

Sakura’s keening cry signaled her completion and as she came down from the high peak of pleasure, she slowly loosened her grip on his hair, allowing him to kiss his way up her shaking body. As their lips met, Sasuke moved to her side, careful to pull her close so as not to break their connection. They relaxed into each other then, and finally felt the weight of the night’s exhaustion pressing upon them. Muscles that Sakura was unaware she possessed, ached in the most pleasant way. Sasuke, for the first time in a long while, felt a comfort and security settle itself deep within his bones.

They paused, lips glancing each other, and opened their eyes to flushed cheeks and satiated smiles. Time could not touch them, not yet, but they had spent hours raveled in her sheets and soon the sun would begin peaking over the mountain range just beyond the palace. Sasuke would leave her chambers shortly and await the next guard.

But that was not now. 

“I want to show you something,” Sakura climbed off the bed and ran to her nightstand in the corner of the room. 

“Is there something I have not seen yet?” He asked with a sly grin.

“Are you saying you are bored with me?” She teased, tossing a look over her shoulder, “Now that you have achieved your conquest?”

“Show me,” Sasuke grumbled, ignoring her chiding words, and pulled himself upright on the bed. Sakura stood quickly, unsheathing her brother’s sword and pointed it in Sasuke’s direction. His eyes widened, “Where did you get that?”

“I stole it from the Gallery.”

“Stole it?” Sasuke’s brows raised sharply.

“Yes,” she responded plainly.

“Will it not be missed?”

“The Gallery remains deserted after all these years, but I’ve had it for some weeks. No one has said a word,” she drew the sword close to her, fingers glancing the steel, “And even still, who would suspect me?”

“You think because you are the Emperor’s daughter you are above reproach?” Sasuke stepped off the bed and moved towards her.

“Would you be the one to reprimand me?” she asked with an eager grin. He took her hip in a firm grasp.

“Perhaps,” he smirked, “You do tempt my patience.”

She bit her lip and released it slowly, letting her eyes drop for a moment, but then pulled away from him.

“Teach me,” Sakura held the sword out, clenching the gilded hilt in a vice grip. Even with the unusual weight in her hand, she felt that it was incredibly well balanced.

“Teach you?” a smirk beset his handsome face as he admired her.

“Yes,” her response was as sure as her gaze upon him, “Teach me to be a warrior.”

“Sakura,” Sasuke’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, “I have never met another person, let alone a warrior, with as much conviction as you. That in itself is a soldier’s strongest weapon, not the blade they wield.”

“I’m not looking for a fight, Sasuke,” her voice was small, but strong, “Only peace of mind. Have you never felt helpless before?”

Of course he had. Sasuke had spent every day of his life carrying that feeling with him. He had been too young and too weak to save his family, but now that he had the strength, there was nothing he could do to bring them back. A silent admission was all that he could offer her in that moment. So his strong fingers, the ones that had brought Sakura so gently to an encompassing release not long before, wrapped around hers. He pried her palm open ever so slightly, “You want a firm grip, but you sacrifice fluidity if you hold it too tight.”

He was so close that his limbs brushed hers and, even though they were completely unclothed, it made her flush scarlet. The rough pads of his fingers slipped over her shoulders. He pushed them down with ease, then took her waist and urged her towards the right.

“A good soldier will be able to balance their weight, but for now you should rely on your dominant side,” she shivered and almost dropped the sword when she felt his hands on the inside of her thighs, “I can feel you tensing here. Relax.”

Sakura exhaled slowly and felt herself slacken at his command.

“Most soldiers are twice your size and often rely on brute force. If you plant your legs, as you were doing, you would be knocked down in a second. Just as you would hold the sword, is how you should hold yourself,” he kneeled on the floor to part her legs and she gasped as his fingers skimmed her still wet cunt. He peered up at her with a satisfied smirk then bit her hip playfully, “You should always be ready to move, to dodge,” as he stood and walked before her, his gaze assessing her stance, he gave a nod of affirmation, “Now, you are ready to attack.”

Sakura felt a prickle of anxiety as she watched his eyes roam her body. In that moment she wished desperately to impress him in a manner very unlike the frivolous ways she had tried before. As she remained naked before him, pointing a weapon towards his bare chest, she asked with earnest,

“Do I strike fear in your heart?”

“No,” he shook his head and stepped closer to her as she began to lower the sword. Sasuke took the blade from her discouraged arm. He kissed her softly, in the tender way she was coming to learn he was capable of, “It is not fear.”

Her lips curled up in a soft smile and she nipped his bottom lip.

“Sasuke, how can you ask me not to give you hope, when I am filled with it every moment I look into your eyes?”

He lowered the sword, the tip giving a soft clank on the wooden floors.

“Have you not asked the impossible of me before?”

“I suppose I have,” she placed her hand over his that held the sword, almost as an apology, but in that moment, Sakura was struck with an odd sense of wonder. She felt Sasuke’s hand in hers as he clutched the hilt of her brother’s sword; the sword that Itachi had used to strike Seiichi down. An Uchiha and a Haruno both clasped the sword that had, with a single blow, destroyed a nation. The weight of such a sentiment bore down on them, but it did not break them apart, “Do you think we would ever have met, had it not been for our brothers?”

“No,” Sasuke shook his head, “There was unrest between my clan and your family for years. Itachi’s betrayal was more than enough to sever those ties once and for all.”

“What did your parents think of him?”

“He disgraced our family,” Sasuke’s voice was heavy as he spoke, “Though my mother tried to protect him, my father wished to disown him. But, that was not long before the night the Akatsuki attacked.”

Sakura released her hold on the sword and wrapped her arms around herself.

“I am so sorry for your losses,” she whispered softly, meeting his eyes with a kind and open gaze, “Truly.”

“As am I, for yours,” they watched each other for longer than a moment, unabashedly and reverently. It had been over over a month since the last attack. Sasuke’s arm had healed almost completely, but the palace had not. In the midst of the war, they had neither the resources nor the manpower to rebuild what had been destroyed. With the Emperor away, the palace and its inhabitants had not felt safe for some time. Sakura had grown restless, fearing the next strike was not far off and Sasuke could see this all churning in her mind. So he spoke, to break the contemplative silence,

“This is incredibly light for a soldier’s weapon. Your brother must have been quick on his feet.”

“What do you mean?”

Sasuke raised the blade to shoulder length, admiring its weight.

“A lighter sword requires quicker, shorter strikes. A traditional iron sword is much thicker, allowing for more damage to be dealt in a single blow. But, iron swords make it more difficult for the user to move swiftly,” Sasuke swept a foot behind him, digging his heel into the floor to take an offensive stance, “It requires you to be more grounded so that you can attack with the full weight of the blade.”

“And what is better in battle?” she asked.

“It is a preference of the soldier,” Sasuke righted himself, lowering the sword to his side once more, “Most are trained to wield heavier weaponry.”

“Why is that?”

“Iron is cheaper to make,” he shrugged, “But steel lasts longer. This is the type of weapon that would be passed down through generations.”

“Generations?” Sakura pondered for a moment, her nails digging into her arms. Then she spoke, “They found it staked through his back, as he lay in a pool of his own blood,” her voice became low and quiet, barely a murmur, “I wondered, often, why your brother had not taken it with him.”

Sasuke could not tear away from her gaze then. He wished to rid himself of the sword; he felt he was not worthy of touching it even. Her words had stung, and though she was not placing the blame on him, there was a spite to her tone, nonetheless.

“I will not pretend to understand his actions,” Sasuke shook his head, “Weapons are often left on the battlefield as a sign of respect for the fallen.”

“Is that what soldiers do?”

“Yes.”

“Then what does a sword through the back say?” Sakura’s brows narrowed, but softened just as quickly when the words left her mouth, “I am sorry. I did not mean to say that.”

Sasuke sighed and walked over to her dresser, where he lay the sword carefully atop it. His hands rested there for a moment. The reflection of his vulnerable, obsidian gaze was trapped in the steel.

“Are you angry with me?” He asked.

“No, Sasuke-kun, I - ,”

“But I am the last of my clan, and who else do you have to blame for your pain?” Sasuke’s shoulders hunched, muscles tightening to coil like a spring, “Is that right?”

Sakura was stunned to silence, for she could not prove him wrong. Was she only taking it out on him because she could not do so with Itachi? Did she unleash her anger on Sasuke simply because he shared a name with her brother’s murderer?

“I do not mean to,” she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her fingers ran over every muscle outlined on his abdomen and when she came up to his chest, she could feel the stable patterns of his breathing. Guilt squeezed her stomach into a knot, “I am terribly sorry.”

“You should not apologize. If you must feel anger, if you must feel sadness,” Sasuke placed his good hand over one of hers, “If you must feel anything other than happiness, I can only hope that I will be the one to comfort you.”

“Sasuke,” she pressed her lips to his shoulder blade, “I have never had to face such compelling emotions before. I do not know how to control myself as you do.”

“You think I know how to control myself?” Sasuke chuckled, turning in her arms so they stood face to face.

“You do try at least,” she smiled coquettishly, “More than I do.”

“You should not have to,” Sasuke gripped her hips and pulled her against his hardening member, “I would not wish you any other way.”

She stood on her toes to whisper against his lips, “Nor I, you.”

* * *

Sakura did not remember falling asleep, nor did she remember Sasuke leaving in the early hours of dawn, but when she woke, she found a small scrap of parchment beside her pillow. She unfolded the paper to reveal the words, “Until tonight,” scrawled rather neatly in black ink. A small smile spread over her lips.

* * *

“I fear I’ve made things worse between us,” Lee wrung his hands together, a fretful expression on his face.

“How have you managed to do that?” Ino chastised him sharply. The courtiers sat about a large table in Mebuki’s sitting room. Surrounding them were other ladies in waiting and gentlemen of the court passing their time with idle recreations.

“It is baffling that you have not managed this sooner,” Karin laughed.

“This occurred when you forcibly had me attempt to reconcile with Sakura,” he exhaled in frustration, “If you must know.”

“What did you say to her?” Hinata asked gingerly.

“I can not repeat it,” Lee shook his head solemnly.

“Have you offended her again?” Karin still could not contain her laughter.

“Perhaps worse than before,” he sighed.

“Have you spoken to her since?” Ino asked anxiously. He shook his head.

“Careful, Lee,” Tenten teased, “I can see your foot in your mouth.”

“Ladies, I am gravely serious,” Lee was losing every bit of composure he had, “I can not take back what I’ve said to her.”

“What _did_ you say?” Hinata asked again. Lee shook his head just as the doors to the Empress’ sitting room flung open and Sakura walked through. Her head was held high and a bright smile adorned her features as she strode through the room to join the table.

“Good morning, everyone,” she greeted them all pleasantly, but there was a small pause of uncomfortable silence before they responded in kind, “What have I missed?”

“Nothing,” Ino was quick to respond, “There is absolutely nothing to gossip about in this dreary court.”

“If it can even be called a court anymore,” Karin chimed in.

“We have lost many to the war,” Sakura agreed, “But I have faith it will soon be over.”

“Perhaps I will join the army,” Lee piped up, immediately drawing the attention of the table.

“Lee!” Hinata’s tone was chastising.

“You would not last a second,” Karin tossed her head back and laughed. His cheeks burned as he rushed to defend himself,

“I was taught to fence in my younger years.”

“And I was taught to sew,” Ino said with a note of condescension in her voice, “But you don’t see me going out on the battlefield jabbing the enemy with a needle.”

“What on earth would possess you to say such a thing?” Karin asked. Lee quickly shut his mouth and slumped in his chair.

“I think it is very noble of you, Lee,” Sakura amended, causing him to break into a small smile, “But I hope for your sake that it never comes to that,” she addressed the table as she continued, “I hope that my father is able to develop the alliance with the sand nation so that we may put an end to this war.”

“As do I,” Lee said while the rest of the table nodded in agreement.

“Enough of this talk,” Sakura waved her hand as though she were putting an end to the war with such a simple gesture, “Who would like to walk around the gardens with me?”

“Now?” Karin balked, “It is barely noon and it has already begun snowing.”

“Last time you dragged us out there everything was dead and frozen,” Ino bristled, “I doubt much has changed since then.”

“Very well then,” Sakura smiled, brushing off their disinterest with ease, “What shall we do to pass the time?”

“How about a game?” Tenten suggested, “Shogi?”

“Oh, I have not played in so long!” Hinata beamed. Karin rushed over to a cubby in a corner of the room where the court housed various games for their entertainment. She hurried back with the board game and set up the pieces.

“Who will go first?” Ino asked.

“Tenten and Hinata,” Sakura declared, “I will do the toss.”

* * *

Sasori stood at the mouth of the cave and watched the onslaught of snow white out the world before him. The wind howled so sharply that hardly a thought could be heard over the storm. He had begun to lose track of the days they had been forced to seek shelter in that cave.

“This is unfortunate,” Deidara sighed, coming to stand beside Sasori, “We may be detained here a while longer still. Obito will be displeased.”

“Perhaps we should have raided the stables. If we had horses, we might have avoided this storm entirely,” one of the soldiers mused.

“And where would we have hid them? Would you have shared your food?” Sasori questioned him harshly, “We are safer in smaller numbers, with fewer mouths to feed and fewer tracks to cover.”

“There are fewer tracks because we have _lost our men!_ ” the soldier snapped and the cave went eerily silent. The handful of men they had not lost to the harsh conditions and depleted rations were growing ever more weary. The unceasing blizzard had only soured their moods further. He could not voice it, but Sasori feared he might lose their loyalty before they reached Orochimaru.

It was not meant to go this way, but he felt his hold over the soldiers loosening. They had the perfect plan, a sure way to cripple the Emperor and cause his reign to crumble, but it was a lack of loyalty that had caused that plan to fail in the first place. Now, they were too close to Orochimaru to let anything, or anyone, else sabotage their mission. Out of the corner of his eye, Sasori watched Kabuto. He had been oddly quiet through all of this and while he sat before the blazing fire, his gaze was a blank, empty stare, reflecting in it only the light from the flames. Sasori wondered what thoughts captivated Kabuto’s attention so much that it rendered him bereft of speech.

“We need only hold on a little longer,” Sasori addressed the unruly soldier, “This storm, like all things, will pass.”

* * *

Sasuke’s hands kneaded Sakura’s foot as her legs sat between his. She was clad in only her dressing gown now and his shirt had long since been discarded. The Shogi board lay before them, half played.

"I believe it is your turn, Uchiha-san," she smiled coyly and began a path along his thigh, her toes pressing against the seam of his pants. His mouth quirked upwards in an almost imperceptible smile. 

"Continue to tease me, Sakura, and you will see what happens," he whispered darkly. She bit her lip, staring him dead on. 

“Show me,” she dared him, circling the placket of his pants. Sasuke shoved the shogi board aside, the pieces clattering to the floor, and pulled her down to the end of the bed by her ankle. She fell back with a soft yelp, her eyes shimmering with mirth when he came to loom over her. He admired her for a moment, through a lusty haze, gaze raking across her flushed skin that peaked through the opening of her robe. His hand hiked further, brushing against the inside of her thigh, then moved to grasp her hip beneath the silken material. Desire fluttered in Sakura’s stomach like a caged bird set free.

“You do like to test my limits,” he murmured as his fingers skimmed over her stomach to the underside of her breasts.

“It has become my favorite pastime,” she admitted, an immoral smirk overcoming her features. He chuckled and nudged her legs apart with his knee, baring her already drenched core, then hooked them around his waist. She knew what he was about to do before it happened, but it still caused a playful shriek to leave her when he flipped their positions. She straddled his waist, robe half open and falling from her shoulders, as he looked up at her with yearning in his sable eyes. She appeared every bit the vision she had when he had first laid eyes on her in that shimmering gold gown. With her long, rosy hair cascading down her bare back and her fair skin vacant of any jewels or trinkets, she was beautiful.

“I was not gifted with your silver tongue,” Sasuke staid himself as he spoke. Despite his tone, Sakura thought him to be speaking in jest. When he did not laugh, she realized the vulnerability he was exposing to her in that moment.

“It only makes your words all the more significant when they are spoken,” she amended, her hand coming to stroke his strong, stubbled jaw.

“I can not always voice what is on my mind because of it,” his eyes met hers, imploring her to understand what it was he was trying to say. And she did.

“Sasuke-kun,” she ran her fingers down his chest and leaned forward so that their lips almost touched. She saw the reflection in his eyes; not of her, but of need, adoration, and sincerity, “I understand.”

Though his feelings remained unspoken, perhaps out of his own trepidation and fear, in that moment he was gazing at her as though nothing and no one existed outside of the space they occupied. His hands rose along her back to cradle her closer. Their lids closed and their lips touched and it was destruction and chaos and every beautiful sensation in the world exploding within them at once. Sakura laced her fingers through the strands of his hair, as they moved against each other. It was desperate and fevered, but, unlike other nights, they hesitated to escalate anything further. So, they circled in that moment; hands moving tenderly, but precise, mouths and tongues caressing, but teeth restrained, clothing disorderly, but still donned.

And in that moment, it was enough.

* * *

Lee sat on the bench by the willow tree, overlooking the lake as the sun rose. He had been trying to get close to Sakura for weeks, to apologize and talk to her, but every time he had worked up the courage, her ladies had made it near impossible. Recently, she had become far more social and on many a days, he had found her sitting with her ladies to pass the time. In addition, it seemed that Sakura, just as she rose early, had developed a proclivity for retiring with the sunset. As such, he felt that the first light of morning might be his best chance.

He had spent many a restless nights imagining what he might say to her, how he might phrase the numerous thoughts she stirred to life in his mind. He was not sure he would ever find the correct union of words that could right his wrongs, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

Lee turned his head to the direction of her rooms and watched the doors just as they began to open. The Uzumaki started to exit, but was stopped by a delicate hand. Lee saw Sasuke’s brief smirk as he turned his head, before he was pulled back inside. Lee waited, suspicion and anxiety seeping into his skin with every second that passed outside those closed doors. Perhaps the Uzumaki had forgotten something, Lee pondered to console himself.

When the soldier reemerged, with a barely concealed smile resting upon his face, Lee took off in the opposite direction.


	19. Chapter 19

_The rain had been pouring all week and there seemed no end to it. As such, Mebuki had called for Sakura and the other courtiers; a little company on such a dreary day would do wonders for their spirits, she had thought. So the cortege kept beneath the jutting roofs of the palace buildings to avoid being caught in the spring showers as they made their way to Mebuki’s sitting room. As they strolled, arm-in-arm, Ino tugged at Sakura’s sleeve. Discreetly, she nodded her head toward the other side of the courtyard._

_“That’s him,” she grinned, “The soldier I told you of, Naruto’s brother.”_

_Sakura peered around Ino to glimpse the guards that stood in front of her father’s doors. She couldn’t recognize either of them._

_“Which one?”_

_“With the dark hair,” Ino spoke hurriedly, “Quickly, he’s not looking.”_

_Sakura glanced over once more, but it was difficult to make out his features as he had turned his head. He did seem to have a distinctive jawline though, broad shoulders - really an impressive build altogether._

_“Well?” Ino pressed._

_“It’s difficult to say,” Sakura’s eyes snapped back to Ino, “I cannot see his face.”_

_“Perhaps we should take another lap then,” Ino wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Sakura tossed her head back with a laugh, unaware that she had just caught the attention of that very same soldier._

* * *

A satisfying thunk sounded when Sasuke’s dagger lodged intothe trunk of the tree across from him. Sakura stood a few feet behind him, chewing her lip as she fingered the hilt of the small blade in her hand. She shifted and the snow crunched beneath her near frozen feet. Not a foreign sound nor a sign of life disturbed the small clearing they stood in and the faint crescent moon above was the only light they were provided. It was dangerous for them to be out at this hour, and in the open no less, so they kept close to the edges of the forest.

“As a child, I was taught to throw with both hands,” Sasuke turned and walked back to her, “For now, you should throw with your dominant hand.”

Sakura nodded and stepped forward. She placed her feet in the indents in the snow that his had made; left foot back, right foot ahead.

“Stand straight, shoulders back,” he reminded her, “Focus on where it’s going, not where it is.”

Sakura lifted the blade, shrugging her cloak back over her shoulders, and threw. It skipped off the rough bark and fell to the ground. She frowned and reached for the holster at her waist, unsheathing another dagger. In the weeks they had been training, she had yet to successfully wedge one of the knives into a tree. It was not for lack of effort, though, and the evidence of her trials were clear from the innumerable notches on the trunks in this particular glade. She threw again, this time with more ferocity. It stuck in the wood for a scant moment, then dropped with a soft clunk against the other fallen blade.

“Relax,” he called out.

“Relax?” Sakura laughed and whirled around. She was becoming exasperated with herself, “I was not relaxed when that man had me by the throat.”

Sasuke took a deep breath and approached her.

“No,” he took hold of her hands, “Of course not,” he began pressing his thumbs into her palms in circular motions, “And neither was I. But your body must be limber so that you may act quickly and harshly. In the midst of war, you will not have time to think before you strike. You must trust in yourself. And you must know that if you fail, it may cost your life.”

“Is that not a lot of pressure to carry on one’s shoulders in the heat of battle?” Sakura rolled her neck as he continued to massage her hands.

“There comes a day when you learn to accept it,” Sasuke said somberly, “The weight never disappears, it just becomes a part of you.”

Even in the dim night, she could see the look in his eyes; he wasn’t talking about the war. Gently, Sakura pulled her hands from his.

“I will try again.”

* * *

“Take heart, men,” Deidara beamed as they approached the village gates. A full moon hung above them, alighting their snowy path. Two soldiers stood in attention at the entrance to the gates, cautious of the fatigued travelers that approached them. They each placed a hand on the sheaths of their swords, causing Sasori to stall his men and proceed forward alone,

“We are Akatsuki,” he held his hands out in a show of compliance, “Obito is expecting us - as well as Lord Orochimaru.”

“Akatsuki?” One of the guards asked, “From which division?”

“ _Obito’s_ division,” Sasori bit out, “We come from the Emperor’s palace. We infiltrated his private guard.”

“Your name?”

“Sasori.”

“Ah, you are Sasori. You are late.” Sasori had to grit his teeth to keep from lashing out at the obvious goad, “The rest of your troupe arrived a while ago.”

“There were some setbacks,” Sasori admitted begrudgingly, “Our journey was only made more difficult by this storm.”

“We were told there would be more of you,” the other guard chimed in.

“We had some unfortunate and unavoidable losses,” Deidara stepped in to explain before Sasori snapped, “Please, we are in desperate need of food, drink, and a good night’s sleep.”

“Come with me,” one of the guards motioned for them to follow, “If you have the mark, keep it covered until we are through the village.”

* * *

_“You are staring,” Sasuke continued to wrap his hands as he watched Naruto peer through the open doorway at the Emperor’s daughter and her ladies in waiting. The brothers sat amongst their fellow soldiers in the training hall, preparing to spar._

_“I cannot help myself,” Naruto had a sheepish grin on his face as he looked over at Sasuke, “I have never seen a woman as beautiful as she.”_

_“Hn,” Sasuke started on his other hand and turned his gaze to the doorway. He could not deny that the same thought had crossed his mind the few times he had been in her presence. On that day in particular, she was in her summer best; resplendent like a blossom in spring._

_“Who would you pick?” Naruto cocked his head, “If you could.”_

_“None of them,” Sasuke did not need to look twice at the group of courtiers to know his answer. Yet, he dared not bring himself to speak the words aloud. They were far too absurd, and yet he could not believe how brazen Naruto was being about his interest._

_“Why?” Sasuke raised a brow at the question and Naruto shrugged, “Right. What should I do?”_

_“About what?”_

_“I mean, how should I approach her?”_

_“Approach her?”_

_“Do I write her a letter first? A poem?”_

_“I am certain she has more than a few already,” Sasuke scoffed._

_“I’ll ask her on a walk then, perhaps, so we can talk,” Naruto was earnest as he spoke, “Get to know each other.”_

_“If you can get her alone,” Sasuke shook his head, “You are wasting your time.”_

_“Love is not a waste, dear brother,” Naruto’s smile never faded, even as Sasuke remained stoic as ever and his words cynical, “Besides, all the men seem to be preoccupied with Haruno-sama. I think I have a pretty good chance of getting Hinata-chan alone.”_

_“Hinata?” Sasuke dropped the roll of cloth suddenly. Just as hastily he tried to pick it up, attempting to appear unfazed._

_“Hinata-chan,” Naruto nodded, then added, “Why? Who were you talking about?”_

_“It does not matter,” Sasuke shook his head as he severed the cloth, “We did not come here to find wives. We came here to become soldiers.”_

_“Why not both?” Naruto laughed._

* * *

For weeks, Sasuke had been training Sakura with various techniques and a menagerie of weaponry. Though there were times she had been discouraged, he found her conviction never wavered in this pursuit. It was something to be admired and something that had assuaged most of his trepidation with the matter. They both had taken a risk, but had been careful to conceal their involvement with each other.

Each night we would come to her rooms, relieve the other guard, and wait for the gardens to clear before using his key. She would then greet him with a kiss just behind those doors, and often that would incite carnal actions. Then, with satiated desires, they would sneak out of her rooms to practice.

On this particular night, however, when Sasuke entered her quarters, he saw the fire ablaze and the curtains drawn. In the middle of the room, Sakura was seated atop her dais, robes carelessly splayed open.She was half exposed to his gluttonous gaze, the tops of her breasts peaking from her silks with each steady breath. Though her legs were crossed, they were bare before him, the fabrics she wore diverging at the tops of her thighs. Sasuke briskly shut the door.

“Are you mad?” He tried to sound chastising, but could not hold the tone as he further took in the sight of her.

“Come here,” She beckoned him with a slender finger, but Sasuke did not move. He tried to think rationally; almost anyone could have walked in and found her in such a state.

“Sakura, you tempt your luck,” he balled his fists tightly in an effort to keep his thoughts on course.

“Do I tempt you?” Her fingers glanced the inside of her thighs as she slid her legs apart.

“Every moment of every day,” he couldn’t help but smirk when he saw a coy smile take over her lips.

“I made certain I would not be disturbed until you came to your post,” she assured him, “You might find it surprising to note that though you don’t heed my words, the other guards _do_.”

“Hn,” he took a step forward and she straightened with his approach, “You wish me to follow your orders?”

“What a notion,” she quirked a brow and crooked her finger once more, “Come here.”

This time, he complied and approached the dais that held her throne. She peered at him through half-lidded eyes, her full lips lilting up at the sides ever so slightly. Even without his surname, she found him to be a striking figure and despite his efforts to remain hidden, under a false name in a far off land, he had commanded Sakura’s attention from the first time she saw him. She found her thoughts - and herself - at his mercy more times than she could recall; tall in stature and with the build of a man born to be a warrior. His onyx orbs were endless as a starless night, dark and dominant. They were an easy trap for her to fall in to.

“Kneel,” she whispered, eyes shimmering with desire and perhaps just a touch of mirth; she was already enjoying this. Sasuke did as she instructed and lowered himself to his knees. He looked up at her, wanting and waiting. He was itching to touch her, to run his hands along her silken skin, to feel her tremble under his fingers. It took all of his power to await her bidding. After a long moment, she parted her lips and declared, “Kiss me.”

With a mischievous smirk, Sasuke’s hands went to her thighs, gripping tight as he put one over his shoulder and held the other in place. He gave her one last, wicked look and watched her shiver, before his mouth descended on her aching cunt.

Her fingers sailed to the inky black strands of his hair, entwining to pull him ever closer as his tongue savored her one wicked stroke at a time. Her sharp gasps and salacious moans began filling the expanse of her sitting room. Small tremors ran through her body as he continued his attentions on her. His hands kneaded her thighs as he sucked her clit between his lips. She cried out his name and bucked her hips, but he held her steady. Sakura might have been in control before, but she had relinquished it the instant she allowed him to touch her.

Through the pleasure she couldn’t help but imagine how debauched they must have looked; a ruler-to-be slouched in her throne while her chief guard serviced her in the most lascivious way. What a sight, she thought and simpered, but Sasuke quickly obliterated any coherent thoughts left in her mind with one flick of his tongue. His fingers began circling her entrance, causing her to shudder with anticipation and desire.

“Sasuke,” though she uttered only his name, he understood the plea laying underneath and he acquiesced. As he slid them inside of her, Sakura’s heel dug in to his back, her torso arching off the throne, the beginnings of her completion edging through her.

* * *

The guards had taken Sasori and the rest of the soldiers to the barracks just beyond the main streets of the village. They had been given warm meals and fresh changes of clothing. Many were pleased simply just to have sheets to cover themselves with at night; it had been a harsh journey of considerable time and sacrifice, but it was over now. They could rest easy, they thought.

That was, until their commander arrived.

“Brace yourselves, men,” Deidara whispered as Obito strode through the door.

“Orochimaru has been expecting you for some time now. The others arrived some time ago,” Obito surveyed the weary soldiers with a hardened gaze and crossed arms, “I suppose there was good reason for your delay?”

Not a single word was volunteered from the soldiers, so Obito fixed Sasori with a stern look,

“We need to talk.”

Reluctantly, Sasori followed Obito outside the barracks and down the beaten path to the deserted stables; many of the horses were disposed on the battlefield against the Emperor’s armies. Obito turned on him in an instant.

“Would you care to enlighten me as to why there are whisperings that you, Kabuto, and Deidara are the reason for the failure of our plan?” Obito scrutinized Sasori as he questioned him, pacing a short path before him, “The plan that took _months_ to set in place. We took care of everything and all you had to do was bring back the girl!”

“It was not my fault,” Sasori scowled, then added, “There were more complicated factors at play.”

“Such as?”

“There were others not at their posts that night.”

“So you admit you were not where you were supposed to be?” Obito swore under his breath, “You _know_ I vouched for you. The only reason you are here is by _my_ own standing with Orochimaru.”

“You are not listening to me,” Sasori snapped, “The farmer, Takahiro, was not there to help Yamato take the Emperor’s daughter.”

“He had better be dead,” Obito threatened, his features darkening the more Sasori spoke.

“He is,” Sasori conceded, “But not by our hands. One of the Uzumaki brothers killed him. Somehow, he found out that Takahiro was one of us - ”

Obito stopped in his tracks and held his hand up, “Uzumaki _brothers_?”

“The older brother, with the dark hair.”

“There is no older brother. The Uzumakis have _one_ child,” Obito emphasized his words with a pointed index finger, “His name is Naruto. He is a general in the Emperor’s army, he does not reside at the palace, and he has _blonde_ hair.”

“How - ”

“I was there when Orochimaru drove the Uzumakis out of Konoha with their _one_ child. If they had had another child, he would be too young to be in the Emperor’s employ.”

“What does it matter?” Sasori barked, “Takahiro is the reason we do not have the Haruno heir!”

“It matters if there is an imposter hiding out in the palace! Who knows where his allegiances lie?” Obito shook with anger.

“He is the one who killed Yamato and Takahiro,” Sasori spat, “I would say that gives us our answer.”

Obito pinched the bridge of his nose and paced on the spot. Orochimaru would be furious, not just at Sasori, but at Obito, as well. After all, with Sasori being Obito’s recruit, Sasori’s failure was a mark on Obito.

“Surely you realize the position you have forced me into,” Obito scowled and Sasori was cunning enough to look ashamed, apologetic even.

“It was not my fault,” he seethed.

“Well, Orochimaru will want someone to blame,” Obito sighed and thought for a moment before he spoke again, “If it has to be someone, give him Kabuto. You and Deidara are too valuable to us now.”

Sasori swallowed harshly; Kabuto, _his_ recruit. Was this punishment? Or a blessing? Regardless, he could not muster the will to say ‘thank you.’

“Do not dwell on it too much,” Obito patted Sasori’s shoulder and began to walk away, “If Kabuto has any sense, he is halfway to another village by now, and if he does not, then he is of no use to us anyways.”

* * *

“Strike.”

She closed her hand into a fist and punched through the air, but he blocked her.

“Strike.”

Sakura swung her arm and he caught her by the wrist.

“Strike.”

Sakura’s palm shot out and struck him in the sternum. Sasuke stumbled back. His fingers came to rest over the space she had hit him where a throbbing pain began to bloom, and he smiled.

“Very good,” he said, admiring her progress.

“Really?” She beamed and he nodded. Sakura grabbed Sasuke and kissed him, to which he responded in kind, pulling her close. When they broke for a breath, she asked, “Can we practice some more?”

“I thought that is what we were doing,” He smirked.

“Do you not find it a little bit cramped in my rooms?”

He looked around at the rather large space; they had pushed all of her furniture, save the bed, up against the wall to leave a clear area for them to practice. He hooked an arm around her waist and asked,

“What did you have in mind?”

* * *

Lee had taken to monitoring Sakura’s quarters on a regular basis, when he didn’t happen to already be in the presence of her company. He had not been certain he would find something and, if he did, what that something would be. As such, he had had a couple weeks to ponder it all, spending his days with her and the other courtiers, and he began to think perhaps his suspicions were unwarranted. After all, he had foolishly been jealous of Sasuke simply because Sakura had shown the soldier that saved her life a bit of gratitude. But still, his suspicions of Sasuke had grown from that one morning that he’d seen him leave Sakura’s rooms. So, he found himself seated on the stone bench, on yet another wintry evening, beside the willow tree.

The silence and serenity of the night had given him time to think on his situation, and how he might rectify his standing with Sakura. Perhaps he had been too strong in his affections, too expecting of her immediate reciprocation. He needed to show her that he had the patience to wait for her, the desire to change for her, and the determination to fight for her. Yes, he thought, he would not be deterred so easily. 

Suddenly, the doors to her room opened and he was startled to his feet. In the light coming from her quarters, Lee saw Sasuke’s head turning, looking around, and so he ducked behind the bench, out of view.

* * *

“Pull your hood up,” Sasuke adjusted the scabbard at his hip as he checked their surroundings.

“Is there anyone out there?” Sakura asked, tucking her hair beneath her cloak.

“No,” he shook his head and took her hand, “Stay close, though.”

Sakura nodded as he led her outside. After locking the doors to her quarters, they set off on the path through the gardens. The glow from the candle they had left burning in her sitting room slowly receded behind them, until they were bathed only in the light of the moon above them.

“I asked you this once before,” Sakura placed her hand in the crook of his arm as she spoke. They trudged through the snow at a comfortable, yet hurried pace, wary of the fact that at any moment a courtier or guard might happen to appear, “But I feel now that I might get a different answer.”

“Hn?”

“Did you always want to be a soldier?”

Sasuke peered down at her and saw her honest, curious gaze.

“No,” Sasuke shook his head, “I did not know what I wanted to be when I was younger. At least, not until the war started.”

“What happened?”

“My brother left to fight,” Sasuke’s eyes darkened as he looked ahead. They were just passing the snow covered willow tree, “To my father, it was the greatest honor for our family. So, I decided then I wanted to be a general, just to make him proud, too.”

“Who taught you to fight?”

Lee couldn’t hear Sasuke’s response over the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. He was paralyzed by fear; how could he possibly explain himself if he was caught?

“After the Akatsuki attacked, I had no choice.”

“Why did you come here?” Sakura asked. She could not fathom why an Uchiha would choose to hide out right beneath the Emperor’s nose.

“We had nowhere else to go,” his voice was solemn as they passed the rim of the lake, trekking off the beaten path towards the edge of the forest, “After the Hokage removed the Uzumakis from power in Konoha, it was no longer safe for them. They were already planning to leave before my clan was killed. We were on the run for years. Minato, Naruto’s father, still had supporters that helped to hide us. But not even they knew who I truly was.”

“And they felt you safer here?” Sakura’s heart grew heavy the more he spoke.

“They thought it better than running.”

They were approaching the forest now and Lee could see the two were deep in conversation, but he kept himself well out of earshot to remain unnoticed. Why was he taking her out so far? Leading her away from the palace? Did he mean to harm her?

“You do not need to hide from me,” they shared a brief smile at her sentiment, before Sasuke’s brow furrowed with worry.

“We should not be out here for long.”

“Will you not indulge me?” She asked innocently, “Just for tonight?”

“You imply that I do not indulge you every night,” he smirked. Sakura laughed and brought them to a stop just past a column of trees, right into their clearing.

“So you do,” she agreed and turned her gaze upward to the oceanic night sky that rippled with twinkling stars. Sasuke let his eyes leave her for just a moment to look up as well. The snow covered treetops bordered the expanse of sky, allowing for just enough space to envelop the couple in moonlight. For a long, quiet breath, they shared that moment, believing it to belong only to them, unaware of the man that followed. 

Lee crouched behind a tree and watched as Sakura stepped away from Sasuke and removed her cloak. She let it fall without care to the snowy ground, hair unfurling down her back, to reveal a rather plain kimono and an intricately detailed sword scabbard strapped to her hip. She unsheathed the blade and pointed it right at Sasuke. Lee had to stifle an audible gasp with his hand.

He was fixed on their exchange. Despite the heavy winds, the two stood still as statues, except for the movements of their lips, but he could not make out their words. It was only when Sasuke pulled out his own sword that Lee jumped to his feet. He almost ran out from behind the tree yelling for them to stop, until he saw Sakura lurch forward to strike. Sasuke parried her effortlessly, but Sakura recovered quickly and struck again. He blocked her once more, but she continued to charge him while the air between them crackled with a palpable energy.

And that’s how it went, like a carefully choreographed dance; a ceaseless repartee of combative skill.

“You are doing well,” Sasuke remarked, sidestepping her next attack.

“Not well enough,” her brows were scrunched in concentration. Their swords clanked and clashed together, while every step branded the blanketed forest floor beneath them.

“I understand your impatience,” Sasuke began to huff. If nothing else she was swift enough to keep him on his toes, “You must not get ahead of yourself, though,” Sasuke charged forward, moving on the offensive to drive her back. Sakura began to stumble, her strikes becoming more erratic and less methodic with each movement of his toward her. Beads of sweat began at the base of her neck. He came at her with such raw force, the flex of his muscles evident through his uniform, that she might have felt a genuine dread if not for the unchecked desire she held for him, “When you are always looking at where you want to be,” Sasuke knocked the sword from her hand and she fell back from the power of his strike. He pointed the tip of his blade down at her with a smirk, “You lose sight of where you are.”

She grumbled and took his hand when he stretched it out to her, “Well said.”

“You are not deterred so easily,” Sasuke shook his head at Sakura and pulled her to her feet. His greedy eyes explored her for longer than a moment, “I know you better than that.”

They talked for some time, so Lee inched out from behind the tree, trying to catch a word or two of what they were saying.

Sakura turned away from Sasuke then, reaching to pick up her sword, and caught a glimpse of a shadow moving between the trees. Her heart shot to her throat and her breath hitched.

“Did you see that?” Sakura’s eyes darted to Sasuke, then back to the trees, but the figure was gone.

“What?”

“There was a person,” she pointed in the direction of her line of sight, “Just there.”

“Sakura, get behind me,” Sasuke grabbed her arm and stepped forward. He brandished his sword, though he could not see a soul around, the exposure of the moonlight covering them was no help.

“Perhaps we should go back,” Sakura clutched his sleeve, her heart racing and her gaze flitting around every which way.

“I think that would be best,” he picked her cloak up from the ground and brushed the snow off, “Put it on.”

They began to walk back to her rooms briskly. Neither one spoke for the fear of being heard by some unknown assailant, but they kept a steady hold on the other. It was only when they had reached the willow tree that they both could breath easier, and so Sakura stopped them.

“Sasuke,” she whispered and pulled him into the dangling branches. They were cold and frozen, but beneath them, enclosed within them, the air was still. The wind rustled the leaves, but did not penetrate the space around them. Before he could question anything, Sakura grabbed him by the collar and kissed him fervently. He needed no elaboration and backed her against the thick trunk of the tree. Sasuke’s hands gripped the back of her thighs as he slipped his leg between them. He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel him already, through the material of his pants, and it spurred her desire. She tangled her fingers in his hair and moaned, “I need you.”

Sasuke pinned her to the tree with his hips so that he could free one hand to slip it beneath her cloak. He kneaded her breast through the kimono as he kissed his way up her neck. Their heated training sessions never failed to incite their passion for one another. 

“Now?” His teeth tugged on her lobe softly. It was a ridiculous question.

“Please,” she begged, but he pulled away, letting her slide back to her feet.

“Not here,” in the dark light she could still see the wild look in his eyes, “I would rather take my time with you, in the privacy of your rooms.”

“So that you may have your sinful way with me?” She teased.

“So that I may have you in _every_ way,” he whispered darkly.

Lee was unsure of what he’d witnessed, if it had been anything at all. Certainly it was peculiar, even more so as he watched from behind a pillar as they emerged from the willow tree by the lake. But, was sparring really all that scandalous? Dangerous, sure, and he would address that with Sasuke the following morning; Lee was certain her father would not approve. But was it wrong for him to teach her to defend herself?

Still, he felt his curiosity win out and watched the pair trudge through the snow to her rooms. Lee had to sneak between pillars to keep them in his line of sight, and watched as they settled just outside her doors. He knew they were talking, but could not risk getting closer to hear their words. Then, Sakura laughed, pushing herself up by the tips of her toes - and kissed Sasuke on the cheek. Lee was stricken and could only watch as they stepped through the threshold of her quarters, until he heard the doors shut.

He bolted across the frozen ground toward her rooms and rapped his knuckles furiously on the doors. He waited a beat, but there was no answer. He tried again, pounding his fist against the wood, causing it to shake. Still there was no response, so Lee went around the side to try and peer in through the large window. Her curtains were drawn and so he could only see through a small partition. Alighted by candles, Sakura was standing behind Sasuke, his back turned to her as he peered with caution at the door. He had a hand up to stop her from coming any closer.

“Stay here, Sakura.”

“Sasuke, please, just ignore it,” she reached for his arm and caught his sleeve, “It was probably just the wind. If it were anything serious, we would have heard something by now.”

“I’m not taking any chances. Stay here,” he pulled away from her to unlock the front doors and peer outside, but not a soul was around, so he took a step out into the bitter night air.

Lee could see Sakura pacing the length of her room until she stopped to call out.

Sasuke seemed to comply with whatever she had asked of him, shaking his head as he reentered. Sakura’s shoulders slumped with relief. He reached for her and she took his hand gratefully. That’s when Lee saw Sasuke pull her close, against his body. Their lips moved, but still he could not hear a word they were saying.

“Just stay with me tonight,” she whispered; an unnecessary request, as he did so every night now, but the admission that he would always eased her fears.

“I will,” his fingers unfastened her hair to weave through her satin strands. Sakura breathed deeply as he played with her long tresses. The simple touch was soothing her strained nerves, “I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

Lee watched Sakura place her small hands on either side of the Uzumaki’s face. She stood on the tips of her toes once more, so that their lips were level. Then her eyes closed and she tilted her head to kiss the soldier.

If it was the first time she was kissing him, Sasuke did not appear in the least bit surprised and responded with an almost aggressive fervor, pushing back against her as though they fought for dominance. There was no innocence, no tentativeness to the action; it was a raw, nearly crude display of passion. Hidden in the dark of the night, yet before Lee’s eyes as plain as day - Sasuke and Sakura were ardently entwined within each other.

His hands began to roam her body, touching every curve and slope without the slightest hesitation. It was as though the movement was as natural to him as drawing breath. Lee watched as Sasuke went to unhooking the various clasps of her garments as though it were not the first time he had done so. It was as one might expect a man would do to his wife after many years of practiced evenings together. Never once, not even while their fingers caressed and wandered, did they break apart for so much as a sigh. When the first layer of her jūnihitoe fell, Lee forced himself away.

Defeated, he slumped against the wall and sank lower, until he met with the frigid ground.

“Must you wear such elaborate outfits?” Sasuke’s breath came in short as Sakura’s hands slipped beneath the waistband of his pants. She giggled and pulled him with her until her back hit the doors to her private quarters.

“Do you not enjoy undressing me?”

“Hn,” he slowly pulled away, drawing out their tender kiss, “Always.”

Sakura reached one hand up to caress his cheek. It had been some time since he’d last shaved, but she did not mind. In fact, she took the moment to admire him, tracing the strong line of his jaw, the slope of his sharp nose, and the arch of his brows. Her eyes rested on his then. She found his black orbs to be most expressive in these intimate moments they shared. His carnal desire for her brought to life a light within his gaze; a light that seemed to flush out the darkness that inhabited them on many occasions.

“I feel we have come a long way,” Sakura’s voice was barely above a whisper, “Would you not agree?”

Sasuke nodded, sober and solemn, then rested his forehead against hers. She brought her arms up around his neck as his hands slipped to her waist. He screwed his eyes shut and exhaled sharply,

“How long can we continue this?”

Sakura took a deep breath and shook her head, but she was careful not to detach herself from him.

“At least for the rest of our lives.”

Though it was an attempt at levity, neither one found the strength to laugh. They could only stand there, arms enveloping one another, sharing in the same moment. On many nights, their desires offered an escape from the oppressive reality that awaited them outside those doors, but tonight - tonight felt different.

* * *

“Has he even spoken a word to you?” Tenten scoffed at Ino and Karin, “I have yet to see either of you evoke so much as a greeting from him.”

They bristled, but stuck their noses up, clinging to their pride.

“He does not need to speak words,” Ino brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cast a quick glance at the window, no doubt hoping she might find the man in question passing by. Truthfully, it had been some time since they had seen him for more than a transitory moment during their waking hours. They were left only to assume he had taken up a different shift that hid him from their overzealous gazes.

“That’s right,” Karin agreed, “I see him looking at me when we pass by.”

“You mean at me,” Ino corrected her.

“Hardly,” Karin threw her head back and laughed, “What interest would he have in you?”

“Nobility, status,” Ino quirked a brow and sneered at Karin, “I could go on, but I imagine it would not make much different to a _medicine woman’s_ daughter.”

Karin stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the wood floor of Sakura’s sitting room, seething from Ino’s insult. Though she had been listening to them squabble for some time now, the sound of Karin’s chair is what caused Sakura to set her book to the side.

“Ladies, I am going crazy being cooped up like this,” she huffed, standing from the chair on her dais. She approached the table by the window where they sat, “I must go for a walk.”

“I will join you,” Lee jumped up from his chair quickly and held his hand out to her. She was hesitant to take it and looked around at her ladies for assistance. In a moment they were all standing alongside Karin, ready for Sakura to lead the way.

“The more the merrier,” Sakura smiled and took Lee’s hand. As he led her outside the doors into the frigid air of the deserted gardens, she could hear her ladies gossiping behind them softly.

“Haruno-sama,” Lee began quietly, then changed the course of his thoughts, “Sakura, I owe you my sincerest apologies. I had not considered your feelings before I spoke that night. I seem to neglect them quite a bit, in fact. For that, I apologize as well.”

“Lee-san, please,” Sakura shook her head, keeping her voice low and quiet, “You do not owe me anything.”

“Please, let me speak my thoughts,” he continued, determined to be heard.

“I do not think now is the time,” Sakura balked at his boldness.

“Well, I did hope we might converse privately,” there was a twinge of bitterness to his words.

“I’m afraid that is something I am not afforded in my occupation,” Sakura retorted, though she was grateful then for the security her ladies provided her in that moment. She did not wish to have yet another discussion like this with Lee.

“Regardless, I must voice my feelings - ”

“Lee!” Sakura wrenched herself from his arm. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her ladies, all of whom stood clustered and hushed nearby, “Must we do this now?”

“But - ,”

“Truthfully, you caught me off guard,” she scowled, trying to quell the storm brewing within her, “I had not known your feelings to be so strong. Forgive me, but I was surprised.”

“I thought my letter might have given you indication of how I felt,” as he spoke, Sakura looked away from him, her heart beating an unsteady rhythm. The wind rustled the fresh snow around them, biting through their clothing. It was becoming difficult for her to think, “You never did tell me what you thought of it.”

“Well,” Sakura stammered, “What can I say?”

“Did you - Did you even read it?” Lee gave a short, empty laugh, as though the notion of her not having done so was silly.

“Of course,” Sakura scoffed, but still she did not meet his eyes. Lee fisted his hands tightly. Sakura did not know it, but at that moment, he became certain that she had not read a single word of his letter, “Lee, what is it you expect of me?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head fervently, then sighed, “I only hope that you might give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” She asked, her breathing coming in short and shallow. She tried to mask it as though it were a symptom of the chill, but if she was being candid, the direction of their conversation had caused her senses to numb. The guilt over his letter was a pitiless vice that surrounded and suffocated her. 

“A chance to prove myself,” he reached for her arm, causing Sakura’s eyes to snap to his.

“You have nothing to prove to me.”

“I do.”

“Lee - ”

“I want to prove that I am worthy of you and of your love!” His voice raised then. Her already captivated ladies were now unabashedly looking on at the spectacle. 

“It is not a matter of being worthy!” Sakura snapped finally; she was not concerned about being overhead, even as her ladies stood well within earshot. She was furious, the strands of her hair being pulled from its intricate updo by the unrelenting wind, “I have no _choice_ in the matter, Lee. That burden falls on my parents. When they are ready, they will choose my husband and the future ruler. It is not _me_ you should be courting, but them!”

“Your feelings _matter_ to me,” Lee protested.

“You are too kind, Lee, when you should not be,” Sakura shook her head and began to walk away. She attempted a careless shrug as she said, “Love is a game and I am not even a player on the board.”

* * *

“Obito has informed me you have some distressing news,” Orochimaru leaned back in his seat, slitted eyes wandering over Sasori, with a cheshire grin. The man was a pale, dreadful God, dressed in white, gilded robes, and Sasori was standing in the middle of his domain, as if on display for the God and his guards, “Tell me, does it have something to do with him?”

On command, Kabuto was dragged into the room, bound and gagged, by Obito. He was thrown at Sasori’s feet. With his head bowed, Sasori met Kabuto’s frantic, pleading eyes. But through the panic, he could see that Kabuto understood; he knew why.

“We are only as strong as our weakest,” Orochimaru outstretched his pallid hand to one of his guards. They unsheathed their sword and placed the hilt in his palm, “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir,” Sasori answered, his gaze unwavering.

“Then tell me,” Orochimaru stood from his chair and walked slowly around his desk, dragging the tip of the sword along the stone floor. The steady pierce of iron on stone left an unsettling ring in the air, “Who is weaker?”

Sasori looked up sharply, confusion etching his features.

“Sir?”

“Is it this disloyal _wretch_?” Orochimaru came to a stop before Kabuto and pointed the sword at his cheek. His skin puckered under the tip of the blade. Then, Orochimaru’s slitted eyes met Sasori’s, “Or have we been left vulnerable due to your own incompetence? _You_ , who have let such treachery occur under your own watch!” Orochimaru seethed, “Now we are left without the throne or its heir!”

“Orochimaru-sama, you must believe me - I did everything I could to capture the girl,” Sasori barked defensively.

“Lies!”

“I am the only reason your men were returned to you!”

Orochimaru swung the sword out, almost slicing Sasori across the chest. A lethal energy radiated from his rigid form, “You were the _only_ reason they were compromised in the first place!”

“No!” Sasori spat, “There is an imposter living within the palace. He is the one who discovered our soldiers.”

“Does he live?” Orochimaru hissed. Sasori froze, sweat pooling at the base of his neck, “Answer me!”

His fists clenched as he answered, “Yes.”

“Then, _still_ , you have failed me!” 

“Hokage-sama,” a page rushed into the room, flanked by guards, “I have word from the palace.”

Orochimaru waived his arm to the guards and spoke with a deadly whisper, “Leave us.”

The guards filed out and shut the door behind them, leaving Kabuto still bound and laying on the floor at Sasori’s feet.

“The Emperor is gone; he departed for the Sand Village. He has left his wife in charge in his stead,” the page spoke hurriedly, anxious as every word that left his mouth was only more bad news to Orochimaru’s ears, “I’m afraid she has refused your proposal as well - ” 

A horrifying, murderous bellow came from Orochimaru as he staked the sword through Kabuto’s chest. A muffled, final gasp from Kabuto was followed by silence from the other men in the room. Only Orochimaru’s heavy breath filled the space, until he spoke,

“Did she say anything else?”

“No,” the page shook his head fervently, “Nothing that bears repeating.”

“They insult me with their lack of respect,” Orochimaru spat, “I will bring the _force_ of the Akatsuki down on his pitiful army! The Village of the Sand can not help him now! And when I am through with his soldiers, he will come crawling to me, begging for Konoha’s protection! He will hand his daughter over to me without so much as a single hesitation and then - ,” Orochimaru took a steadying breath, his eyes wild with murderous intent, “Then the world will see the _end_ of the Haruno dynasty once and for all,” Orochimaru rounded his desk, the hem of his robes sweeping through the puddle of blood trickling from Kabuto’s fatal wound. He resumed his seat and addressed the page, “You may leave.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than the page was bolting out the door. Orochimaru settled his sharp gaze back on Sasori, hissing like a snake as he said,

“Now, tell me of this _imposter_.”


	20. Chapter 20

**FEBRUARY**

Sasuke was rooted to the spot in the middle of the clearing in the forest, just on the outskirts of the palace. It was the dead of night and though the clouds hung heavy above him, that day had marked the first thaw, hinting that the beginning of spring was not far off. As he stood still, he seemed to be listening to the whistle of the wind, the rustle of the leaves on the trees that surrounded him. He was contemplative as he looked up to the sky, almost as though he were searching for something - or someone. He heard a flutter and cocked his head to the sound, catching a glimpse in his peripheral of her taupe cloak flapping in the wind.

“Hn,” he said with a smirk, “You can not hide behind me every time.”

As he started to turn, ready to attack, Sakura dropped from the lowest hanging branch of the tree that had been directly in front of him. She rushed forward, light on her feet, brandishing a dagger that she pressed to his throat when she came upon him from behind. She had the slightest second to enjoy the brief look of shock on Sasuke’s face, before his elbow swung back against her ribs. The dagger fell from her hand, but she was quick to take hold of his forearms, pulling him closer to knee him in the abdomen. Sasuke stumbled and Sakura punched her fist forward. He caught her wrist, but she kicked her leg up, a flurry of silks billowing in the air with the movement. Her foot landed square on his chest and he fell back with a sharp groan to the half frozen ground.

Sakura sauntered over to him, her black skirt gliding along the dirt, sweeping a path behind her. Sweat was beading at her forehead and her chest heaved slightly against the bindings of her jūnihitoe. Though it was one of her more elegant gowns, it had begun to serve a greater purpose of allowing her to blend in to the surrounding shadows when they came out at night to train. But this had been the first time she was able to catch Sasuke off guard.

Would she ever cease to surprise him? He thought.

“I believe you call that a diversion,” she said, a bemused smile coming to grace her colored features, “Is that right?”

Sasuke shook his head, almost in disbelief, at her innovation. She extended a hand to him and he allowed her to help him to his feet.

“Well done,” he said as he stepped over to her cloak still squirming in the wind. He could now see she had hitched it to one of the higher branches on the tree. Sasuke remarked proudly, “You are resourceful.”

“That was just another word my teachers would use when I was being insubordinate,” Sakura giggled, coming to stand beside him.

“That does not surprise me,” he chuckled.

“And,” she furrowed her brows at him, as she came to stand on the tips of her toes. Her lips glanced his in a tender, albeit brief, kiss, “I am used to being underestimated.”

“Then I will not make that mistake a second time,” he folded her cloak and tucked it under his arm, “And I will be holding on to this. Try again.”

Sakura smirked, accepting the challenge.

* * *

Lee had turned the events over in his mind every night since, but none of it made sense. Why would a lowly guard like Sasuke become so involved with a woman of noble heritage like Sakura? How could he? The Uzumakis were a respectable family, but Sasuke could not even live up to the expectations placed by his older brother, Naruto. He was certainly no general - and even a general could not hope to court a woman of Sakura’s standing.

Though he sought for some explanation, Lee was not stupid. He was not naive enough to think that there might be some fragment of information he had missed that could excuse all of this absurdity away, hope that he might. The other prospect however - the one that seemed far more likely - was that despite her involvement, could Sakura possibly be unaware of the severity of her predicament? Had Sasuke coerced her in some way to engage in these trysts with him? How long had it been going on for? And just how far had he allowed his licentious desires to be carried out?

Well, Lee had taken it upon himself to uncover just that.

During the days, he would sit respectfully across the room from Sakura as she surrounded herself with the company of the courtiers. But at night, he had continued to follow the pair of them as best he could. Though he had been too fearful of being caught to return to the forest, Lee knew that Sasuke and Sakura had been back many times since. He would watch as they returned from the sanctity of the trees arm-in-arm, weary most nights, yet in an odd, joyful haze.

When they reentered her rooms, they would often talk at the table by the window for hours, until half the candle had burned down. And While Lee mostly heard boisterous laughter, there had been a few junctures where he knew they were discussing matters of great import. At those times, Sakura would reach across the table to hold Sasuke’s hand, brightened eyes attentive to the movement of his lips while she listened astutely, unabashed in her devotion to him.

Sasuke, on the other hand, was a disturbingly subtle man. But Lee had studied them for a while now and had taken notice of the difference in Sasuke’s behaviors around Sakura. He was coming to understand the language of their bodies as they interacted with one another and Lee could guess from the slight change in Sasuke’s posture, as he leaned towards Sakura while she spoke, that she must be bestowing upon him her deepest secrets. Perhaps it was the fears that unsettled her, the regrets that haunted her, or, maybe even, the desires that most plagued her.

Sakura, too, appeared quite different when she and Sasuke were alone, not just in her mannerisms, but physically as well. Of those differences, Lee found the most startling aspect to be her hair - he had never seen it taken down before. Yet, it was always the first thing they did when she and Sasuke entered her rooms to stay for the evening. Most nights, Sasuke would come to stand behind her, so that he could extract each delicate ornament holding her bun in place. Lee found himself mesmerized each time, watching the way her hair twirled like silk down her back as it came undone. But then Sasuke would slide his hands through her thick tresses, weaving through them like a snake through grass and leaving Lee to wonder, how did that feel?

Because it certainly did not feel good for him to watch. In fact, it infuriated him how easy it appeared for Sasuke to be with her. He seemed to touch her without hesitation or doubt, without fear or insecurity; he seemed to touch her on compulsion and, what’s more, showed no shame for it.

Lee had considered confronting Sakura, but given his current standing with her, he thought it best to keep to himself. What’s more, if he went to a person of superior authority - say her mother, or her father when he did return - he worried it might put Sakura in a grave position. She might be punished for such transgressions - though he did not believe her to be at fault - and that would not bode well for any future relationship he hoped to cultivate with her. Truthfully, Lee had wanted to address the matter with Sasuke directly, but he could scarcely be found in the daylight - Lee suspected he spent most of that time sleeping given his nightly activities - let alone without the company of the other guards present. And Lee dare not leak such a secret to the hordes of gossiping courtiers present at the palace; malicious rumors would only harm Sakura and that was far from his intention.

So he continued to watch them as he had been, snooping in the hopes that it might lead to some resolution of his dilemma. Thus far, it had only succeeded in further broadening the gap he already felt between he and Sakura. It had been one thing to see her paying the soldier a courteous hospital visit, and another entirely to catch that same man locked in a passionate embrace with the woman Lee hoped to one day marry. While Sasuke’s hand rested at the small of her back, Sakura’s fingers would tangle in his wild, black hair, and they would kiss, as though no thing or person bore witness upon them.

Yet there Lee was, he the sole spectator to the sins they committed, because not even Kami would dare to look upon such an intimate moment. Shameful as even that simple act was, there were some nights where Lee had caught glimpses of their impatient hands pursuing forbidden places. With such force, Sasuke would push her against the wall as his hands gripped her thighs to hike her legs high on his waist. He would push up the fabrics of her skirt, revealing the smooth skin of her calf. While their lips locked, Sakura pulled at his shirt, yanking it from the band of his pants to expose his lower back. Her fingers lingered there.

Lee knew it was wrong, but he was reticent to step away. These masochistic, voyeuristic tendencies were becoming commonplace for him. Furthermore, he had convinced himself that what he was doing was purely out of a desire to keep Sakura safe, and he had made himself certain that any other person in his place would have taken the same actions. So each night, without fail, he would watch every kiss, every touch, every moment the two shared, before they retreated to her bedroom. At that point, Lee could only imagine what occurred once he lost sight of them, but he found that he did not wish to.

* * *

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura moaned as he sucked at her neck. Her hands moved across his bare back, fingers digging in when he nipped at her skin. His cock was a persistent throb against her thigh that triggered an ache begging to be satisfied, “I need you.”

“You have me,” he breathed and started to kiss his way down her body, but she grabbed hold of his hair to stop him. She caught his lips as one hand slid between them to grasp his length and guide it to her entrance. He flinched and buried his head in her shoulder when he felt her wet heat against the head of his cock. She was so close - palpable, painfully within reach.

“Please,” she begged, rutting her hips upwards. Her hot, sodden cunt grazed against him once more.

“Sakura,” his hand snapped to her wrist quickly and she released him. Slowly, he brought her hand up and pinned it to the bed, “Do not force me to be the rational one.”

“Do not be rational,” Sakura tugged on his hair to bring his gaze up to hers, but he shook his head and pulled away from her. As he sat back on his heels, Sasuke clenched his fists tightly and watched her as she lay provocatively upon the bed. Her cheeks were flushed by passion, framed by rogue wisps of silky hair. Her lips were especially colored from their voracious kissing and her breasts swelled with each heady breath. Her long, porcelain legs brushed alongside each other as she attempted to satisfy the ache between them. She strained his self-control, tempting him to give in to the one thing he had denied them both so vehemently for months now.

And the way her licentious gaze was trained on him, she did not appear to be so easily swayed. 

“Sakura,” he chuckled, but there was a darkness that edged into his voice as he spoke, “What would you have me do?”

She appeared to think on his question for a moment, biting her already swollen bottom lip. It was not as though she did not have the language to formulate her thoughts, but as though she were unsure if she should speak them aloud. After considering him for some time, her green orbs darkened and she answered,

“I would have you fuck me,” her words filled the room, seeming to silence even the crackle of the fire beside them. Sasuke’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, her admission having caused his breath to become lodged in his throat. “Until I can take no more,” Sakura came to her knees then, facing him at level, “Until I am trembling with pleasure,” she was evidently within reach, but made no movement to touch him, “Until the only things I feel are your hands upon me,” she watched him swallow harshly and her confidence only grew as she saw the effect her spoken passions had on him, “And your length inside me,” she refused to break his gaze for even a second, “I would have you fuck me,” she repeated as her fingers fisted the sheet beneath her, twisting it tightly in her grasp, “Until the only coherent word I can utter is your name,” her ravenous eyes iridescent with a lustful intent, she spoke boldly, “And then I would have you fuck me again.”

Sasuke was stunned by the ease with which Sakura seemed to utter such filthy words, but it turned him on more than he was willing to admit, even to himself. His cock pulsated like a constant reminder of everything he so desperately wanted but could not have. If he took her right then, what would happen? If he was to finally give in to their every desires, to finally satiate their seemingly bottomless appetites, what would happen? Every lurid fantasy of her that had plagued him rushed to the forefront of his mind with a burgeoning white heat that spread like fire through his body.

He surged forward and caught her lips with his. His large hands captured her slight wrists and held them at her sides; she couldn’t touch him, not now, not when it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from taking her at that very moment. His mouth was aggressive, seeking to silence her so that she could no longer torment him with her enticing remarks. He was very nearly at the limits of his control, and deep down he wondered just how much longer he would be able to curb his thirst for her. 

* * *

“Have you spoken to Naruto recently?” Ino turned to Hinata as she posed the question, setting aside her knitting needles for a moment. Hinata shook her head solemnly.

“I have not heard from him for many weeks now,” her hands stilled on the pages she held. Though her eyes were trained on Ino, Hinata’s gaze was almost vacant.

“I am sure he is fine,” Tenten reached over to pet Hinata’s shoulder. Hinata gave her a small smile; she appreciated the gesture, but how could any of the other ladies possibly understand her plight? Tenten had married into the nobility of the Hyūga family, the status of which had allowed her husband to _elect_ his involvement in the war. While he had chosen to serve in wars past, he had not been forced into this one as Naruto had. The others, as they remained un-courted, did not have to worry about their prospective spouses being taken away from them in so violent a manner. They had barely begun their courtship before Naruto was ordered to the battlefield.

While Hinata was in no way a bitter woman, she could not help other than to feel jealous and alone in her situation. She had wondered, briefly, if it might do her any good to go to Naruto’s brother for information, but if she was being truthful, the thought of engaging Sasuke in idle conversation terrified her.

“Sakura-chan,” Hinata looked to Sakura who sat upon her dais, listening to the chatter, “I-I don’t suppose you have heard Uzumaki-san mention anything about Naruto-kun have you?”

Sakura swallowed and shook her head; she suddenly felt very guilty, as she had been sitting in her own indulgent bliss for some time that day. Lee on the other hand, watched her carefully, looking for some flicker of anything that might give her away.

“If you would like to talk to him, I am certain he would be most amiable,” she suggested.

“Oh, no, I would not want to be a bother,” Hinata’s cheeks flushed, but Sakura waved her hand.

“Nonsense, I will see to it that he meets with you,” Sakura gave her a genuine smile.

“Thank you, Sakura-chan,” Hinata bowed her head gratefully.

“Well,” Ino piped up, attempting to lighten the mood, “Perhaps while you are scheduling private time with Uzumaki-san you could add my name to the list?”

“ _After_ my name, of course,” Karin teased. Sakura rolled her eyes. Their infatuation with Sasuke was coming to irritate her less and less each day. If anything, she had begun to find it quite humorous. While they fantasized about being in his presence, or maybe even stealing a kiss from him, Sasuke’s head had been buried between Sakura’s quivering legs as he took her to such heightened pleasures the likes of which she had never experienced before. Sakura’s cheeks flushed at the thought; _little did they know._

As she lost herself in her daydreams for a moment, Lee watched a slow smile spread over her lips.

* * *

When Sasuke entered her chambers that night, he found Sakura sitting atop her bed, clad in only her robe. Her hair was wound in a messy bun atop her head as she held a book in hand, beside a freshly drawn bath. She did not look up from the pages as he locked her doors, but instead shifted her position so that her robe slipped open to expose her bare thigh. He smirked and without a word, began to shed his clothing. He knew she could hear the rustling of cloth and caught her watching him out of the corner of her eye. Sakura tried to contain her smile when his shirt fell to the floor, but it was difficult and so she brought her book up to cover half of her face. It was only when he removed his pants that she spoke.

“Get in,” she nodded her head to the still steaming water filling the tub.

“After you,” his hand was outstretched in invitation.

“I insist,” Sakura’s words turned to a command that was further illustrated when she set her book down and waltzed over to him. He did not budge, but his fingers came up to trace the hem of her robe at her chest, pushing it to the side so that it exposed part of her breast. With a wanton smile, she undid the knot at her waist and shrugged the silk off her shoulders. It slipped down her body to crumple on the floor. Before he could reach for her bare skin, Sakura gestured to the tub once more, “Get in.”

This time he complied, albeit with a shameless smirk. As he sank down, the warmth of the water soothed the ache in his bones, his once tense muscles now becoming lax. He closed his eyes for a moment to revel in the sensation as Sakura slipped in behind him, widening her legs to accommodate Sasuke between them.

Before he could speak, he felt her fingers on his shoulders, kneading the tangled muscles that years of rigorous training had caused. A groan slipped out of his mouth and she laughed softly, clearly pleased with herself. He bowed his head as she moved up his neck. She was slow, but forceful, and for having such delicate, soft hands, he found her to be exceptionally skilled at working through every knotted inch of his body. Or perhaps, he thought, it was merely her touch that alleviated his pain - and caused all of his blood and reason to rush elsewhere.

When she was satisfied with her work, Sakura let her hands fall down his back, digging her nails in softly, but deep enough to elicit a shiver down his spine. Again, he heard a small, satisfied giggle out of her. She shifted to her knees, the water lapping at the sides of the tub, almost spilling over, and pressed her chest to Sasuke’s back; her full breasts against his bare skin. He started to reach for her, but Sakura’s fingers began working their way down his biceps. The pressure was more gentle now, but, Kami, her touch was like a sweet repose. She moved to his forearms as her lips glanced his neck with fleeting kisses that burned an imprint upon him. Now, the palpitations of his cock were beginning to distract him from the healing force of her hands.

“Sakura,” he struggled against a desperate groan in his throat when her fingers fell beneath the water to stroke his member.

“Sasuke-kun,” she whispered in his ear; she was teasing him, holding to the power she held over him in that moment. But who was he kidding? She always held power over him and Kami, the way she touched him, she always would. He turned sharply, splashing water over the sides of the tub, and pulled her tight against him. His lips seized hers with an assertive yearning, hands guiding her thighs to straddle his waist. His thick cock slid against her opening, causing her to pull back with a gasp. Her eyes were wild as she looked down at him, as feral and hungry as a cat in the jungle, beseeching him for more. He brought her nipple between his thumb and forefinger to squeeze it lightly, watching as she leaned in to the contact.

“One day,” she whimpered as he palmed her breast, “I will know what it is like to feel you inside of me.”

She felt his cock twitch against her at those words. Sasuke bent his head to nip at her clavicle as his hands moved to grip her thighs tight.

“I could take you right now,” Sakura shivered and nodded eagerly. His fingers slipped between her folds to rub circles at her clit, their eyes locked as she shook in his arms, “I have wondered how you might cry for me,” he slid two fingers inside of her, causing her to clutch at his neck tightly as she moaned, “How you might beg me for more.”

“Sasuke-kun,” her voice began to crack in desperation as he persisted with his taunting ministrations, “Please, I need you.”

“Yes,” he murmured, working another finger into her aching passage. As he began to thrust at a measured rhythm, she rocked her hips in tandem, “Just like that.”

She rested her head against his, breathing heavily, and shut her eyes as she became lost in his words and to the way he was touching her. Though the water had begun to cool, the heat of their bodies caused them to perspire.

“Every night, I imagine it,” his other hand came to her hip, holding her pliant form to prevent her from taking the control away, “I see you in front of me,” he tore his fingers from her and flipped her around so that she was on her knees, gasping and gripping the lip of the tub. His cock pulsated against her backside, “I envision you just like this,” Sakura’s heart was thumping out of her chest, her knuckles whited out from the strength of her hold. She did not dare to look back at him for fear of disrupting the deliciously sordid stream of his thoughts, “Untamed and unrestrained,” one hand trailed a long, wet line down the middle of her arched back to rest at her waist, holding her in a vice grasp, “You beg for me,” his other hand came to caress her hair, playing with the strands coming loose at her nape, before his fingers followed the slope, almost as if he were going to encircle her neck, “And as I bury myself inside of you,” she almost couldn’t hear his harsh exhale over the sound of her blood thrumming in her ears, “You disappear from my reach.”

Suddenly, he released her and returned to the other side of the tub.

For a long moment, Sakura did not move; kneeling in the water, hips raised as though she were about to receive him, hands secure on the rim of the bathtub as though he were about to fuck into her savagely - she _couldn’t_ move. Kami, she could barely breathe. She had to force herself to loosen her grip finger by finger, to regain her composure one breath at a time. But even when she sat slowly back on her heels, she could not bring herself to look at him. She was unsure what she was looking at really, the image of him taking her so crudely still playing out behind her eyes and in her mind. Her heart continued to hammer against her chest, almost like an incessant demand to quench the scorching thirst Sasuke continued to exacerbate within her.

When Sakura had made no indications of shifting her stance, he pulled her against him, arms closing around her waist. His lips kissed a trail along her shoulder and finally she began to relax. His fingers skimmed her thighs in a soothing, consistent touch, drawing her back into the the world that was their reality. Sakura let her head fall against his chest; she could feel her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion, though she could not imagine why. His hands tensed when he spoke, his words rumbling in his chest until they passed through every inch of her body,

“Even in my dreams I cannot have you.”

* * *

As Sasuke prepared to leave for the morning, Sakura sat by the window pensively; she still could not shake the feelings of the previous night from her psyche and so she found herself a distraction.

“Sasuke-kun, could I ask a favor of you?”

“Sakura, you seem to forget that I am in your father’s employ,” he said with a smirk, “If you request it, I shall do it.”

Sakura puffed her cheeks out at him; it was easy to forget when the majority of their time together was spent trying to shuck off their duties and responsibilities.

“Hinata-chan is worried about Naruto,” Sakura spoke delicately, skirting the matter as she knew that Sasuke shared much of Hinata’s pain, “I do not suppose you have any news of his wellbeing?”

Sasuke sighed heavily. Sakura knew this was a subject he attempted to avoid most days. The thought of Naruto at war only reinforced those feelings of helplessness, vulnerability, and self-loathing.

“No,” he shook his head solemnly. Their last correspondence had been before the attacks on the palace; it seemed like eons since then. Sakura nodded and worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Would you talk to her?” She asked, the question coming almost as a plea, “I know she is more fearful than she lets on and more than anything I think she just needs some reassurance that he will come back - alive.”

“I have no reassurance to give her,” Sasuke was bewildered that this was the favor she asked of him, “I know nothing more than she does.”

“As his - ,” Sakura faltered for a moment, then cast her eyes to the floor. She could not look at him as she said the words, “As his brother, you have more comfort to offer her than anyone else.”

Sasuke sighed, “Very well. I will speak to her.”

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura rose from her seat to embrace him, “If it was I in her place, I would hope that Naruto could do the same for me.”

Tenderly, he kissed the crown of her head and did not allow himself to remark on the impossibility of those circumstances.

* * *

It was an odd notion, Sasuke considered as he approached Sakura’s guarded rooms just after lunchtime, that he would have to knock on her doors when his spare key resided just in the right pocket of his trousers. What was even more peculiar was the expression that Lee gave as he opened the door to find Sasuke standing there. Before the words could form from Lee’s agape mouth, Sakura called out,

“Uzumaki-san, thank you for joining us!” She ushered her ladies to stand and move out of the sitting room, “We were just about to go for a walk in the gardens.”

Sasuke stepped to the side to let her ladies pass. He had become so accustomed to Sakura taking his arm that when she breached the threshold of her entryway, he offered her his hand. But Lee was quick to take the opportunity from Sasuke, leading Sakura off to the trail. Sasuke clenched his fist at his side as he was forced to pace behind them until they had all joined each other by the lake. Paying Lee’s action no mind, Sakura smiled at Sasuke and motioned Hinata forward.

“Hinata-chan, Uzumaki-san has graciously come to talk with you about Naruto,” as she spoke, Sakura realized, rather humorously, that she was bringing together the two most soft-spoken people she knew for an afternoon of leisurely conversation.

“I confess, I do not know much more than you,” Sasuke began. His impassive expression was ever present, but he could not help how his eyes continued to wander to where Sakura was joined with Lee, “But knowing Naruto, I would not be surprised if he had talked the enemy into submission by now.”

Hinata let out a boisterous giggle and covered her mouth sharply in embarrassment. Sakura smiled, it was a pleasant contrast to the dreary cloud that had been hanging over Hinata for so long. When the flush in her cheeks had subsided, she nodded.

“He is quite enthusiastic,” Hinata admitted, prompting a smirk from Sasuke. Ino and Karin balked at each other.

“If you mean he never shuts up, then yes,” Sasuke chuckled. Hinata laughed again, a long gone smile resurfacing.

“Kami, she has a way with these Uzumaki boys doesn’t she?” Karin whispered.

“It’s not fair,” Ino huffed, “She already has one, she doesn’t need _two_.”

“Careful, girls,” Tenten chastised them, “Jealousy is not your color.”

Sasuke and Hinata began up the path together, exchanging stories about Naruto, both delighted in their own way to have somebody who understood what they had been missing for so long. Sakura’s ladies trailed behind, speaking incredulous words in hushed voices at the spectacle before them, while Lee kept Sakura at his side, intent on maintaining the distance between her and Sasuke.

“You are a difficult woman to get alone,” Lee attempted to speak wryly, but Sakura remained tightlipped as she turned to look at him; that was just the way she liked it when it came to Lee these days.

“I do not think we have much to say to each other at this time,” she bristled.

“At least give me one more chance to take my foot out of my mouth,” he pleaded. Sakura sighed and twisted her arm out of his grasp.

“What more could you possibly need to say to me?” She was exasperated, all manner of geniality carried off with the wind. Lee thought carefully for a long moment before speaking.

“I am aware of my standing,” he started, “I know that if I truly wanted to have you to call my own, I need only make the arrangements with your parents,” he began to speak in earnest, “But it would mean nothing to me unless you would agree to it as well,” he paused then, attempting to gauge her reaction, “I do not wish to own you. I believe that marriage should be a partnership between two people who desire to grow together,” as he continued, he seemed to recite the words with an unyielding confidence that terrified her, “I seek an independent woman who will remain at my side as we go through life and that is what I see in you.”

“Lee,” Sakura shook her head, at a loss. What could she say? What _should_ she say? It did not matter, whatever would come out of her mouth would certainly not impart upon him the whole truth, “I am not so fortunate as you that I have thought that far ahead in my life. I do not know what I want. I might be of age, but, in many aspects, I am still ignorant to the ways of the world,” she dropped her hold on his gaze then, her twinkling eyes coming to rest on Sasuke’s back as he strode ahead with Hinata, “I hope to fall in love one day, to know what it is like at least once in my life,” her next words came with a startling sobriety, “But I may never be awarded that chance.”

Lee’s heart plummeted as she spoke her brazen confession.

She _had_ fallen in love.

She had fallen in love and it was with _Sasuke_. This was not some silly crush, or girlish fantasy as he had feared. She had convinced herself that this was the man that held, and _deserved,_ her love. Now Sasuke had made it some cruel farce at her expense. He was toying with her, knowing they could never be and taking advantage of that fact just the same.

Hinata waved at Sasuke as she walked away, returning to join the other ladies.

“Excuse me a moment,” Sakura hurried off towards Sasuke, who stood just past the swaying branches of the willow tree, leaving Lee silent and aghast at his realization. She was careful not to let her fervor show, but she could not stall her hand from reaching for his arm, “Thank you for doing that.”

“Hn, I hope it helped,” his eyes met hers, softening in a way that she had not seen before.

“Sasuke-kun, you continue to surprise me,” she smiled so genuinely as she looked up at him that he felt an unusual flutter in his stomach. She was truly enchanting, and in that moment he felt particularly fortunate to know her as intimately as he did.

Just yards away, Lee watched on in fury as Sakura looped her arm in Sasuke’s and finished out the trail around the lake at his side. How could they be so shameless? How could they walk so freely about the palace carrying the secrets that they did? And Sakura - did she think this man actually cared for her? How could he? How could she be so naive?

This situation was too far out of hand and Lee had to do something.

* * *

There was little they could get away with in the light of day, so when Sakura released Sasuke until evening came, there was nothing more than a brief goodbye exchanged between the two. He left Sakura with her ladies, Lee having gone off somewhere after the walk in the gardens, and embarked towards the barracks. Nightfall would be upon them soon, he need only wait a little while longer. But, Kami, the last few evenings had been excruciating. She was too alluring, too tempting in every way - and _too_ _good_. Sasuke shook his head, willing those thoughts away as he came upon the door to the barracks.

A hand shot out and caught Sasuke by the arm before he could step through. It was Lee, pulling him off to the side, behind the building and away from prying eyes. Perplexed and enraged by the bold action, Sasuke dared to open his mouth. 

“Uzumaki-san, _choose your next words wisely_ ,” Lee spoke softly, but threateningly, causing Sasuke to stall himself. He waited a long moment, testing Sasuke’s composure, before continuing, “I do not know what you think you can accomplish by keeping her from me or by doting upon her the way you do, but I assure you nothing good will come from it.”

Sasuke’s jaw hardened as he scrambled to find the footing that had just been taken out from beneath him.

“You make assumptions - ,”

“Hardly,” Lee cut him off with a dark timbre, “I have seen the two of you sneaking about, all those trips to the forest.”

“Lies,” Sasuke hissed, but he could feel the sweat gathering in his palms and at the base of his neck.

“Do not deny it. I know what goes on behind her doors at night.”

Sasuke blanched and Lee had the audacity to quirk his mouth up into a smile when he saw the impact that remark had made, “How pathetic. Perhaps no one else sees because they do not watch her as you or I do, but I see,” he breathed sharply through his nostrils, anger coiling tight in his stomach the longer he locked eyes with Sasuke. This was the man who knew what it was like to hold Sakura, to kiss her sweet lips, perhaps even to _bed her_ , “Yes, Uzumaki-san, I see,” Lee advanced on him quickly, “But you are nothing more than a starving rat with eyes far bigger than his stomach. Even if you deigned to feel something for her, what do you have to offer her? You could not bring her happiness, nor status, riches or land. You are a weed struggling to thrive in her luxuriant garden,” Lee was seething now, his words spewing forth in a dark whisper, “You do not belong in her world. You are _nothing_ and yet you remain in her presence, occupy her nights, as though you belong _with_ her. She might be ignorant to the reality of these circumstances, but I will save her from the heartbreak you will inevitably cause. Your vile, lecherous eyes will look upon her no more - do you understand me?”

Through his tirade, an unbridled rage and constricting fear had seized control of all rationale in Sasuke’s mind, blacking out every thought. He was caught in another person’s snare, but entangled by his own ambitious greed and unhindered lust.

“I am her personal guard,” he said softly. It was the only thing he could manage at that moment, a protest that he soon after wished he had not made.

“I trust you will find a way to rectify that,” Lee retorted before releasing him and walking off into the distance.

Sasuke was rooted in place, stiff as a reed while his insides were torn apart by a storm of hatred, jealousy, and other dangerous, unspeakable emotions.

His initial reaction was not one of lucid thought; to pummel Lee into a state of submission. Satisfying as it was to allow the scenario to play out in his mind, it would not bode well for Sasuke. He clenched his hands tightly and pounded his fists against the wall, then sank to the ground in defeat.

* * *

“I had returned barren and broken, weathered by too many storms. I sought to reclaim that which had been taken from me, yet had never been mine to lay claim to from the beginning. At her behest, I set off on my journey. Where once before I might have feared it, I was met now with only the tranquility and promise of my own destruction,” Sakura took a pause from her recitations, laying the book beside her, and looked over at Sasuke. They sat across from each other at the table in her sitting room, the curtains drawn and the fire blazing nearby. A candle had been lit between them.

“Why did you stop?” He asked, pulling his gaze from the doors.

“Were you enjoying it?” She simpered. Sasuke did not answer, so she changed course, “You seem distracted.”

“It is nothing.”

“Sasuke-kun,” she chastised him playfully, “Do not lie to me.”

He breathed deeply and said, quite bluntly,

“It is almost your birthday.”

“Yes,” Sakura gave a small laugh, “It is.”

“Your father is due to return soon.”

“I suppose so,” she sobered suddenly, realizing his intentions, “What of it?”

“I can not stay at my post like this.”

Sakura swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“What do you mean?”

“If we continue the way we have been, we will surely raise suspicions,” before she could protest, Sasuke continued, “We have been lucky to get away with this for so long, but the rest of the guards will return with your father and we will no longer be able to rely on the cover of darkness to protect us. Someone is bound to notice something.”

“I don’t much care for the course of this conversation,” Sakura’s lip trembled with the weight of the truth that she did not wish to speak; he was right. The palace had been almost deserted after her father had taken most of the guards.

“Nor do I,” he admitted.

“Then let us not speak on it any longer,” she pleaded.

“We do not have a choice,” his eyes darkened with rage and, perhaps, an inkling of fear, “This will not stay a secret forever.”

“I would never tell a soul,” she reached for his hand across the table, fingers spreading over his palm. 

“What will you tell your husband?” He asked plainly.

“What?” She recoiled from him slowly. He stood briskly, appearing as though he were about to walk away from her. Then, with a deep sigh, he gripped the back of the chair he had been sitting in, eyes clouded by the raging storm swelling within him. A darkened scowl overcame his features.

“On your wedding night, when he takes you to bed and discovers you are not the chaste bride he was promised, what will you tell him?”

“Sasuke-kun, please.”

“Do you think he will touch you as I have? Undress you in the same manner?”

“Sasuke - ,”

“Will you call out his name and beg him to _fuck_ you?” She flinched from his words.

“Stop it.”

“How long do you think it will take him to realize that another man has already stolen from you what he was pledged?” Sasuke was relentless.

“Stop it!” Sakura screamed, shutting her eyes to the scene before her. For a long while, neither of them spoke. She could hear his rough breath and his feet as he shifted away from her. Then, his voice quieted to a deep, unsteady timbre, and he asked, “When he is inside of you, will you think of me still?”

Sakura was appalled. Her hands shook as she struggled to keep her composure, but his anger had cut deep enough to inspire tears in her eyes. She tried to blink them away.

“There are times when you can be so cruel,” she stood sharply, the scrape of the chair against her floors a jarring sound, and retreated to her bedroom swiftly. Sasuke watched her slam the door and bowed his head, disgraced.

How could he lash out at her like that? She was not at fault for the things he had done. She was not at fault for Lee finding them out; it was he who had not been careful enough. And she was certainly not at fault for the thought of another man being with her causing him so much discomfort.

In truth, he realized - the revelation hitting him like a bludgeon - that thought probably disturbed him more than the secret of their trysts being brought to light. He’d be damned if he let another man touch her as he had, but perhaps he was already.

For a moment, Sasuke thought maybe he should go after her, but he wasn’t the most eloquent when it came to apologies - not that an apology would even begin to amend the damage he had just caused. Yet, if he was being honest, that was not what held him back. In fact, he wanted to go to her, to swear himself to her for now and for always, but Lee’s words rang clear in his ears.

He could not put Sakura through that. Not for his own selfish desires.

And if he was so susceptible to those temptations, then he would have to remove them completely.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, moving forward I'll be posting previews of the next chapter on my tumblr, under the same name, as I work through and edit them. Enjoy!

**_“_** _I’m sorry,” Sasuke breathed against her neck. Tenderly, he pressed his lips against the spot below her ear, then proceeded along the line of her jaw, before claiming a bruising kiss from her. Slowly, with subtle movements against her mouth, like the brush of his tongue and the nip of his teeth against her bottom lip, he coaxed her into a state of arousal. Though she reciprocated every affectionate pet, she felt she was not aware of her body, where her arms held him, if she had clothes on, or even where they were._

_She existed only where he touched her - a hand on her waist, a thumb on her cheek, his thigh pushing between her legs - but she could feel the heat of him, always._

_“I am so sorry,” he whispered and she tried to open her eyes, to look into his, to see if he was as earnest as he sounded, “For everything.”_

_When she could not look, she tried to speak!_

_But she could conjure no more than an avid moan._

_“You were right,” he kissed her hard before pulling himself back, and, for a moment, she was numb, drifting morosely through an infinite void. Then, the graze of his teeth was at her collarbone, catapulting her into a state of being, and another moan was torn from her. Sakura felt the brush of his hair against her shoulder and she reached to grasp for those thick black locks, but found no purchase._

_Her body was alighted with a pleasure that was rendering her helpless. His touch became incendiary, as though the sun itself were feeding her this passion._

_“There is no use denying it anymore,” Sasuke admitted quietly, his lips stealing another kiss from her and suddenly she could see! His eyes, wide and black and filled with such love for her, bore into her very soul._

_Yes, she thought._

_“We are meant to be together. We will find a way,” his mouth twisted into a wide smile._

_Yes, yes, she almost screamed! Finally, he understood! Finally, he accepted that a love like theirs was indisputable, irrevocable, and wholly inevitable. His words had put her into a heightened state of bliss and she longed to hold him, to feel him in her arms as they exchanged words of adoration, but still she could not reach him._

_“I will go to your father,” Sasuke licked the lobe of her ear as he whispered, “And tell him everything.”_

_The sobering truth of his admission ripped her from the void and plunged her into the polar grasp of reality. He was naked above her, hands clasping her wrists in a steel grip as knelt between her legs. She yanked against his hold, but he held her steady._

_“I will tell your father the truth,” Sasuke dipped his head into the juncture of her neck and he did not budge even a finger as she thrashed against him, “That I am Uchiha,” he pressed his lips to her skin and a searing pain blossomed from that spot, “That my brother was Itachi,” tears sprang to Sakura’s eyes, but even as she felt herself choking on a sob, no sound came from her mouth, “That I was the first to defile you,” he punctuated every painful promise with another kiss that razed an abrasive trail along her skin, “I will tell him you were always mine.”_

_She tried to say his name, to scream out loud, to voice anything that was not a cry of passion._

_“And then, I will tell your husband.”_

Sakura jolted upright in bed, her skin drenched in a nervous sweat that caused her robe to cling uncomfortably to her. In a state of panic, she first clutched at her neck and wrists, ensuring that she retained autonomy over her rattled body. Then her fingers moved to her chest that heaved with the effort of every shaky breath. Her heart raced with uncertainty and trepidation.

It was only a dream, she recited to soothe herself, it was only a horrible dream. Sakura shifted her legs, pushing herself up to a sitting position in bed, and felt a familiar slickness between her thighs.

Her hands dropped to the fabric that rested over her lap. Gingerly, as though she were afraid of what might lay beneath, she parted her robe. Her fingers hovered for a moment, visibly quivering in the dim light. She could not see the evidence of her arousal, but she knew it was there and a wave of shame rolled through her. Even as she refused to attend to the lust pooling in her stomach, she wondered, would he always hold such dominion over her?

She felt that ever present ache pulsating like a beacon that called for the only person who could sate it.

But they never came.

Sakura watched in silence as the stability of her composure crumbled, and finally broke. Tears assaulted her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself.

She was alone and Sasuke was nowhere in sight, but still she felt as though she were suffocating, as though she were still trapped beneath the weight of him. She curled in on herself, sobbing, her body trembling from the raw chasm that had opened in her heart.

* * *

There was not enough sun blanketing the land to warm the chill in Sasuke’s heart. But just as the ground was beginning to thaw, it seemed that the façade he’d been living was melting away, too. He wandered listlessly back to the barracks without a second glance towards what he had left behind him. His eyes, though trained to his feet, could not stop seeing the look of betrayal on Sakura’s face as he spewed his vitriol at her.

Despite what was said, though, he knew it would not be so easy to sever himself from her or their affair. It would not be over so quickly; he knew Sakura well enough to expect another confrontation, or at least her attempt at a reconciliation. He would have to remain resolute when that happened. He could not give in to her.

Or his desires.

“Good morning, Uzumaki-san!”

Sasuke turned to see Lee approaching him with a cordial smile. Just his luck; the last person he wished to see on this already dispiriting morning. Sasuke’s jaw tensed in an effort to belay every curse he wished to hurl at Lee.

“I have done as you asked,” his tone was clipped.

“Have you now?” There was a lilting humor to Lee’s tone.

“What more do you require of me?”

Lee shrugged nonchalantly.

“I did not come to pester you. I merely happened upon you on my walk this fine morning.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. He stuffed his hands into his pockets for fear that he might act irrationally.

“As I said, I have done as you asked,” Sasuke seethed, “You need not tell me twice.”

Lee nodded, thoughtful, then stepped boldly forward. He trained his eyes on Sasuke’s, searching for that flicker, that fracture in his practiced stoicism, that flare in his gaze that would tell Lee he was lying.

“Tell me, how is she this morning?”

Sasuke could have snapped his neck right there. The arrogance, the audacity of this man who had deluded himself into believing he had some control over Sakura and her life.

Oh, the irony.

Sasuke breathed deeply. Misguided as he was, Lee was right to do this. If Sasuke did not have the strength to keep himself from her, then perhaps the threat of their affair’s exposure did.

“I would not know,” he hissed darkly, causing Lee to preen.

“Good,” he nodded.

“If that is all, I have other places to be,” Sasuke clenched his fists to measure his fury.

“Of course,” Lee bowed his head and walked off.

Sasuke watched the nobleman tread through the waking world, his lavish yukata complimenting the bright glow of the new day; Lee blended so seamlessly into the landscape around him. It was simply another reminder that he belonged where Sasuke didn’t.

Turning away from the glare of the sun, Sasuke stepped into the darkness of the barracks. He walked along the rows of emptying cots until he found his. The exhaustion of the night had caught up with him, so he pulled out the bag beneath his mattress and pilfered through it for his cotton sleepwear. After changing, he flopped back on the cot and slipped his hand under his pillow. He listened to the trample of receding footsteps and waited until the silence stretched into a comfortable minute that let him know he was alone. His fingers inched through the opening of his pillowcase and brushed against the wrinkled parchment he’d stuffed there many months ago. Softly, he clutched it between thumb and forefinger, as though he meant to pull it out.

Not now, he thought, releasing the paper.  
Not when his resolve was so close to shattering.

* * *

She started counting the seconds, the minutes, and the hours, but this was not uncommon for her. She associated their time together with the setting of the sun, for he had become as reliable as the promise of night.

But then the hours turned to days. The days turned into a week. Then two. The palace was only so big and she did not understand how he had managed to allude her for so long, but it was clear how intentional and methodical he had been. He had organized that instead of one guard at her doors at night, she now had two, and during the days he had amassed a retinue of unnecessary numbers. Therefore, he had made it impossible for her to even seek _him_ out without raising any suspicions. So, most days, she sulked in her mother’s sitting room, the noise of the nobility chattering away warring against the cacophony of her own restless thoughts.

She had forgotten what it felt like to have these fights, to wake up with the uncertainty of their future hanging above them, while the weight of their predicament pressed upon her. She could not deny that even with the threat of her father’s return, she had still held the expectation that their affair would continue.

But that night -

It was unlike the many conversations of their future that they had had in the past. He was not himself; something had been wrong. If there wasn’t, why would he talk to her in such a way? So crass and vulgar - but also pained. He seemed so. . .

_Conflicted_.

Sakura straightened herself where she sat by the window. Perhaps she was overthinking this. It was not the first time they had fought over such things and, to her dismay, she realized it would not be the last. Though the way he spoke to her was egregious and unwarranted, she knew that at the core of his argument, he was right. But even admitting it to herself, she felt her obstinance to stay with him grow. Albeit her mind ran in circles as every feasible reason she conjured to stay with him resulted in a dead end, Sakura still found ways to trick herself into thinking there was more than just heartbreak waiting for them. After all, she thought, he was so entrenched within her life that even now, it was not so easy to imagine waking up without him.

And yet, here she found herself.

“It is quite nice out,” Hinata remarked, sidling up beside Sakura as she sat at the table, “Should we go for a walk?”

“Oh yes!” Ino begged, “It has been so pleasant lately.”

“What do you say, Sakura?” TenTen gave her a soft nudge that snatched Sakura from her roiled thoughts.

“Yes, that sounds fine,” she stood and led the procession, guards and all, out into the shimmering day. They passed along the path by the lake that was mid-thaw; a couple more months and the koi would be able to return to it.

Did they know the difference? She wondered, staring out at the softly rippling water that weaved around stray sheets of ice that floated listlessly. Did they understand that for half the year they lived inside a glass cage? Even if they did, the entirety of their lake in the gardens was only a fraction of her world. They only existed because she deemed it so.

Such was the reality of being someone’s property, she mused.

“Sakura-chan, have you given thought to what you will do for your birthday?” Hinata asked. Before Sakura could even open her mouth, Karin piped up,

“I heard Mebuki-chan was planning something special!”

“Baka,” Tenten smacked her on the arm, “It would not be special if she knew, now would it?”

“It is quite all right,” Sakura smiled, “It has not been a surprise for many years. My parents throw the same party every birthday.”

“Is it not wonderful?” Ino clutched her hands to her chest as she spoke excitedly, “I just live for the celebrations your mother throws. The drinks, the dancing - ”

“Of course, this year we are far fewer in number,” Karin grimaced, “Which means fewer prospective husbands to dance with.”

“Speaking of which,” Ino nudged Sakura as she spotted a figure off in the distance.

“Haruno-sama!” he called out and Sakura turned to see Hibiki waving as he strode towards them.

“Hibiki-san,” she gave him a polite smile as he bowed before her. She slowed to talk, her ladies taking that as a signal to give them a wide berth. Her guards then followed suit, falling back to watch, but not listen, “I have not seen you in some time. How are you?”

“I should be asking you that,” his brows furrowed, “I heard what happened while I was away.”

“Yes,” she bent her head briefly, willing the memories to flee from her mind. She did not need to think about that now, “I thank you for your concern.”

“If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to find me,” he smiled in a genuine way that seemed to come so naturally to him; it was almost charming.

“That is very kind of you, Hibiki-san,” Sakura looked up at him, “May I ask where you have been all this time?”

“I had to take care of some affairs at my family estate,” he said solemnly.

“Oh - ,”

“My father passed away.”

“Hibiki-san, I am so sorry,” Sakura reached her hand out to clasp his, “It is I who should be offering you my assistance at this time.”

“You are too gracious,” he said, “I am sorry to tell you we were expecting it for some while.”

“He took ill?” She asked.

“Terribly so,” he nodded, “And it is hereditary apparently. It seems there was more to my inheritance than just a title.”

“So you - ”

“When I am older,” he shrugged and smiled when he saw her concern, “Do not fret. My father lived a good, full life. He did not suffer long,” Hibiki shook his head, “I am sorry, we should not talk of this. It is too dismal. Are you excited for your birthday?”

“Yes, quite,” she smiled, but in truth, she would rather talk of death and other such atrocities than her daunting birthday celebrations.

“Is there anything you desire for it?” He asked sincerely, but Sakura dismissed the question with a laugh.

“At the risk of appearing rapacious, what could I possibly want that I do not already own?”

“A husband, perhaps?”

Sakura faltered in her steps and looked up at him quizzically. 

“A joke,” Hibiki said hastily with a chuckle, “It was only a joke.”

“Oh,” Sakura forced a laugh, “Forgive me, you caught me quite off guard.”

“Yes, I apologize,” he appeared sheepish, guilty and somewhat hurt that she had been so taken aback by his comment, “But now that I have thoroughly offended you, perhaps we can talk of something else?”

Sakura acquiesced and they walked the length of the lake once, then twice, until her mother, bordered by her own guards, approached.

“Hibiki-san,” Mebuki greeted him as he bowed low. When he rose, she took his hand in a sincere grasp, “Please extend my deepest sympathies to your mother and your sisters. Your father was a man of great honor and loyalty, we were so sorry to hear of his passing.”

Sakura’s cheeks flushed at her mother’s words. She had been so consumed with her own affairs that she had not even given thought to Hibiki’s absence. It seemed Mebuki was more involved with the people of her court than Sakura was.

“You are as magnanimous as ever,” Hibiki said gratefully as she released his hand and Mebuki smiled brightly.

“Pardon me, but could I steal my daughter from you?”

“Of course, your majesty,” Hibiki bowed and looked to Sakura, “I am sure we will see each other very soon.”

“I am sure we will,” Sakura nodded and walked off with her mother.

“There is a surprise waiting for you in your rooms,” Mebuki said excitedly and took her daughter’s hand, leading her with urgency in that very direction.

“My birthday is not for another week,” Sakura grumbled.

“You could think of it as an early present then,” Mebuki smiled as the guards opened the doors to Sakura’s sitting rooms to reveal the Emperor.

“Father!” Sakura tore from her mother to fling herself at Kizashi. He hugged her tightly, spinning her about.

“I promised you I would be back before Spring, did I not?” Kizashi chortled heartily, “Before your birthday even.”

“You always keep your promises,” she pecked his cheek and they released each other, “How did it go?”

“Better than I had hoped,” he smiled, “Gaara has given us his full support.”

“Father, that’s wonderful!” Sakura beamed, “Could we win the war?”

“It seems that way,” Kizashi was reserved, but he wanted to give Sakura all the hope in the world. For too long she had known the trials of war, had been born into them, and lived in fear of them.

“That is truly wonderful news,” Mebuki finally spoke from the entryway where she had not moved since their arrival. Kizashi strutted towards her with open arms.

“Darling!” he scooped her in a hug and kissed her briefly, “I missed you.”

“As did I,” Mebuki scarcely contained her smile, but underneath it, she was fuming. Still, Sakura was present and she would maintain geniality until she and Kizashi were alone, “Now that you are back, we should talk of a party. This palace could use a celebration and what better way than for _your_ birthday and _your_ return?”

“A splendid idea, my dear,” Kizashi hugged her close, “I trust you can make all the arrangements?”

“I already have,” Mebuki smirked.

“Oh,” his brows raised in surprise, “Perhaps I should leave you in charge more often.”

“She does quite well on her own, does she not?” Sakura smiled at her mother proudly.

“I am glad you are home,” she patted her husband’s hand, “And now that you are, we have much to discuss.”

“Yes, yes, of course, but first I must tend to some pressing matters. Kakashi and I must speak with the other advisors. Can it wait?”

Through tight lips, Mebuki replied,

“Surely.”

* * *

Since his return, the Emperor had sequestered himself in his study. He ate, slept, and delegated from that one room without so much as a step outside for days. With Kakashi steadfastly at his side, they designed their next strategies on the field of battle. They poured over their maps, their inventories of resources, and their alliances in the surrounding territories.

“Now that we have the numbers, I want us to disperse,” Kizashi drew a line across the map that traveled through the central location of his battalion. As the war had raged and ravaged, his soldiers had been driven back, reduced so greatly in size that the only hope for survival was to group together in a single emplacement, “I want Naruto to lead Gaara’s soldier when they arrive to set up a new camp here,” he pointed out the destination on the map, “Izuka can maintain our current position. Then, we will form smaller regiments that will spread through the nearby villages; they will work to reclaim those provinces one by one,” he glanced at Kakashi who stroked his chin thoughtfully, “What do you think about Uzumaki-san?”

“To lead an infantry through the villages?”

“A covert invasion,” Kizashi nodded.

“He has been well trained for war, he certainly has the skills for it,” Kakashi mused, “Might I make a suggestion?”

“Please,” Kizashi leaned back in his chair. If there was one advisor he valued above all else, it was Kakashi.

“There is much he could teach the new recruits from the Sand. Many of them have never faced the kind of rigorous training Uzumaki-san has. He could build the regiments here while we bolster our numbers across these regions.”

“And then he can take point,” Kizashi nodded and motioned for a guard at the end of the room to come forward, “We must get started right away. Bring me Uzumaki-san.”

The guard nodded and left.

* * *

Sakura stood in front of the long mirror in her mother’s room as her handmaidens sprinted around her, fitting her in the jūnihitoe she would wear that evening, but every layer added was another chain that she would have to carry through the night.

“What about a blue coat, dear?” Mebuki laid out a dress of navy silk for Sakura to see.

“No,” she answered immediately, eyes snapping back to the mirror.

“Alright,” her mother bristled, but she failed to see the tremor of Sakura’s lips as she struggled to keep her composure. Flashes of the night of the first attack assaulted her mind: the Akatsuki breaking in to her rooms, killing her guard, shoving her to her knees in a pool of his blood that had stained her navy blue kimono. Sakura breathed deeply and looked to her mother.

“The gold one,” she decided.

“For a party in Spring?” Her mother clarified.

“Yes,” Sakura responded adamantly.

“Very well,” Mebuki went to the vanity where the jewelry had been laid out for her selection. Her fingers skimmed the priceless treasures until she found the piece she was looking for. With a satisfied smile, she took it over to Sakura and rested the necklace against her collarbone, “This will be stunning once we pin your hair up.”

“I am not wearing my hair up tonight,” Sakura said, causing her mother’s shoulders to droop in defeat.

“I do not know why I am even here, then,” Mebuki huffed.

“Sometimes a bit of change is good,” Sakura gave her a teasing simper, “You taught me that.”

“I suppose I did,” Mebuki rolled her eyes, then jabbed, “I should have known you would learn to dress yourself one day. At least your father is still hopeless without me.”

While Sakura gave a spirited laugh at her mother’s joke, she failed to realize the malcontent behind it. Mebuki went silent and grappled with some semblance of a smile, before she excused herself from the room. Sakura’s grin slowly faded; she knew her father was busy, but it did not cease the ache in her heart and it was obviously a plight her mother shared in, too. It was one thing to have him gone, unattainable, and another to have him home, but still out of her reach.

But, she thought, she would see him at the party that night. A smile resumed on her face once more, and then she felt her heart stutter when she reminded herself of who else would be there. Sure, it would be out of obligation more so than anything else, but, this was her chance to finally see him, maybe even to talk to him, reason with him. 

There had to be more, she told herself, this could not be the end for them.

* * *

“Sire,” Sasuke bowed upon entering the room, “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me, I know you have been very busy.”

“I will admit I’ve had little time to think on much else since I returned from the Sand,” Kizashi sighed heavily. He was tired, but there was a levity behind his weary gaze; he was securing a hold upon his empire once more, Gaara’s troops were mobilizing to join his army on the front as they spoke, and he had returned just in time for the celebration of his daughter’s birthday. Everything was falling in to place, “But now that I have returned, I _would_ like to discuss you taking on more responsibilities here.”

“Hn,” Sasuke gave a half-hearted smirk, “That is what I was hoping we would discuss.”

“Ha!” Kizashi chuckled, “I suppose you are in need of a change of scenery?”

“Perhaps that is it,” Sasuke nodded.

“As it stands, Gaara was generous in his donation to our crusade. Not only did he send us troops for the battlefield, but he has fortified our numbers here as well. Our forces have not been so formidable since the start of this war,” Kizashi leaned back in his chair, “But it would seem I have a surplus of guards at the palace at the moment. They are fine, they have gone through basic training, and I am confident they would do well against any normal threat, but,” Kizashi took a steadying breath, “The Akatsuki are not normal, are they?”

Sasuke knew it was simply a rhetorical inquiry, but he nodded nonetheless.

“I do not need more guards, Uzumaki-san, I need soldiers,” he said plainly, “And I would wager that none are quite so equipped for the war ahead of us. At least not quite so much as, say, you are.”

“Sir, my eagerness to join your war efforts is no indication of my skills,” Sasuke said swiftly, “If anything it might speak to my lack of experience in such a subject.”

“I see Naruto inherited all the hubris in the family,” Kizashi remarked humorously, but he quickly sobered himself and spoke frankly, “No one knows the truths of war until they have lived it. What I need is somebody who understands that. If you choose to do this, it will require skill beyond physical attributes - strategy, efficiency, loyalty - these are all qualities that I see in you.”

Sasuke found himself to be rendered speechless by the heavy weight of expectation those words placed on him.

“While we continue the battle against the Akatsuki, we want to focus some of our efforts on recovering the settlements we lost to them,” Kakashi explained, “A small regiment, led by you, would infiltrate and liberate these territories.”

“You would train them here, as head of our guard, and when you leave for the war, you would do so as a general,” Kizashi leaned forward on his desk, locked fingers settled beneath his chin, “What do you think?”

Stupefied, all he could manage to say was,

“Sir, I am honored, but I have no need for titles.”

Kizashi eyed him curiously, causing Sasuke to tense.

“Might I ask why that is?”

“I find there is enough honor in serving your family, sir,” Sasuke answered, then bowed deeply, “Please do not take this as a sign of disrespect. I would be privileged to take on such responsibilities in the name of the Haruno empire.”

Kizashi considered him for a long breath. He was a perplexing man, very unlike the rest of his family. Although, Kizashi held a history with the Uzumakis, he had not seen them, aside from the two brothers, for many years. And while he had secured the brothers’ safety out of respect for the Uzumaki legacy, in the interest of diplomacy, he was not able to extend the protection to Minato and Kushina, much to his dismay. The matter of it was that if the Hokage had learned that the Emperor housed the very family he had plotted and succeeded to overthrow in his efforts to claim Konoha, then there would have been no hope of any alliance against the Akatsuki.

Of course, that was no matter now. Gaara’s contribution had renewed Kizashi’s hope in a victorious outcome.

“You are a humble man,” the Emperor said, “For that I must insist that you take this position and the titles along with it. I will not see such potential wasted.”

Rather than attempt to fit his foot further in his mouth, Sasuke nodded his acceptance.

“Thank you, sir. I will - ”

The doors burst open and Mebuki strode in, guards trailing her as though they had attempted to halt her. The Emperor held up a hand to stop them.

“Kizashi,” there was a slight tremor in her stature as she spoke to the room, “Excuse me, I need to speak with my husband privately.”

“Of course,” Kizashi stood from his desk and gestured towards the door, “Would you please excuse us?”

Sasuke and Kakashi bowed before exiting with the rest of the guards.

“How could you?” She rounded on him as soon as the door closed. She was fueled by a tremulous fury that threatened to consume anything in her path, “He has demanded our daughter’s hand!”

“My love,” Kizashi held his hands up as if he hoped to quiet her, “Please - ”

“For days I have waited for you and all you do is sit here with your envoy discussing whose blood to shed next in this endless war!” She snapped, “Why would you not tell me such a thing?!”

“It was of no import,” he took hold of her hands, but Mebuki ripped them free.

“No import? She is our _child_ ,” Mebuki darted across the room in a tireless pace, “ _My child_ as well as yours. I will not have some decrepit warlord with no nobility to his heritage threaten my kingdom and my daughter!”

“Darling,” he approached her cautiously, “We need not worry any longer. Gaara has been most generous in his donation,” Mebuki stopped at his words and Kizashi took her stillness as an invitation to touch her. He placed his hands on her shoulders gingerly, “This could turn the tide of the war in our favor. He has no allegiance to the Hokage and his lands have not yet been devastated by the Akatsuki’s forces,” Mebuki softened at this, “He has given us new hope, a chance to recover all that we have lost,” as she listened, she slowly began to calm herself, “An alliance through marriage with the Hokage is the last thing I would want for our daughter. Put it out of your mind for I have not even given it any consideration,” as she nodded, his tone changed to one of reason, “Gaara, on the other hand, is a fine young man, an upstanding gentleman, and a most gracious host. If we could win this war, perhaps we can discuss an arranged union with his empire instead.”

Mebuki exhaled gently; that notion appealed to her. Gaara came from an upstanding family of honorable lineage and was much closer in age to Sakura than the self-imposed Hokage. He would do well as a husband.

“That sounds much more agreeable,” Mebuki nodded, but she refused to meet her husband’s gaze; she had not entirely forgiven him for keeping such a secret from her.

“Wonderful,” Kizashi kissed her forehead, “Then I shall send word to the Hokage that, once again, we respectfully decline his proposal.”

“There is no need,” Mebuki said as she turned away from him.

“Pardon?”

She started for the door.

“I said, there is no need.” 

“Mebuki,” Kizashi caught her wrist, but she wrenched herself free, “What did you do?”

“I rejected his disgusting offer,” Mebuki seethed as she sashayed to the door. She paused, gripping the handle, and tossed a look back at her husband, “ _Respectfully_.”

* * *

“It is quite an impressive feat at your age,” Kakashi remarked to Sasuke as they strolled toward the barracks, “For the Emperor to entrust his future soldiers to you.”

“It is no more impressive than Naruto assuming the position of general when he did,” Sasuke shrugged.

“In any case, it is good to see you taking such initiative,” Kakashi smiled at him, “Your parents would be very proud.”

“Hn.”

“Have you spoken with them recently? Are they well?”

“Naruto says they are fine, protected,” Sasuke shrugged, “I do not talk to them much.”

“When the war is over, will you go see them?”

“I do not know,” Sasuke looked off to the horizon, where the sunset became reflected in the soft ripples on the lake, “I never thought I would leave this place.”

“Careful, Uzumaki-san, do not become like me,” Kakashi grinned and Sasuke chuckled at that, “But, might I offer some advice?”

“Hn?”

Kakashi stopped at the door to the barracks, eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked over Sasuke.

“Never forget where you come from.”

* * *

Sakura’s breath hitched in her throat as she stood in front of the interior doors to the great hall. She could hear all the music and commotion on the other side bleeding through the wood before her. She was nervous, so nervous, more than she had ever been on an occasion such as this. She exhaled sharply through her mouth and lowered her shaking hands to her sides. Hinata stepped beside her and straightened the creased fabric on her shoulder.

“You look radiant,” Hinata assured her. Sakura offered her a grateful smile.

“As do you,” she said, then smirked, “If he were here, I am certain Naruto would have to pick his jaw up from the floor.”

Hinata giggled and Sakura felt just a little more at ease. Flanked by her ladies in waiting, she garnered the strength to enter the Grand Hall. Though the music persisted, a hush fell over the crowd as she was presented. The sleeves of her jūnihitoe kissed the floor as she glided through the room, while the large bow of her mo trailed behind her.

In a rare public occurrence, her hair fell like a veil of silk down her back, while shimmering jewels sat atop her head as a crown and smaller gems weaved through her rosy strands. Resting elegantly on her collarbone was the necklace her mother had picked out, the rubies set in the intricate golden chain complimenting the radiance of her gown.

Sakura paused in the center of the room, allowing her ladies to disperse and the general chatter to resume. Her eyes searched along the walls of the hall until she found him. Sasuke stood in the far corner near the front doors - perhaps to be prepared for any possible threat, or maybe to ensure his own means of an escape. They locked eyes for a brief moment and she offered him a polite smile, careful to give nothing else away.

She was teasing him, enticing him, but he knew that. It was a gesture that, perhaps to her, was all in good fun, but Sasuke found it more disturbing than endearing.

These things that he coveted of her - the intimacy felt upon unraveling the delicate coiffure of her hair, the memory of their first words as she wore that very same gown, even that dazzling smile she awarded him in the privacy of her quarters - she had put them all on display for the entire court. And whatever idealistic contemplations he had, shattered at the realization that these things he coveted of her. . .

They had never belonged to him.

And to _think_ , to _hope_ , to _dream_ , that they ever would, was an insidious mistake on his part.

Discomfited, Sasuke ripped his eyes away from her.

With a tremendous effort to retain a sweet smile on her face, Sakura began to walk about the room, bowing to and greeting her guests.

* * *

“Could I trouble you for the first dance?” Hibiki approached Sakura with an extended hand. She took it gratefully; perhaps he could be a welcome distraction for her.

“So long as I might trouble you to keep me in time?” Though she meant it as a joke, it had been quite a while since they had held such festivities at the palace and she found those to be the only events she ever danced for. With a soft chuckle, Hibiki led her to the middle of the grand hall. He placed one hand on the small of her back, while the other came up to entwine their fingers.

Knowing the whole of the court had their eyes on them, Sakura struggled to keep her gaze forward. Even after all these years living in palaces, surrounded by devoted noblemen, she still found herself to be reticent under such attentive eyes. She longed for the secrecy of the forest or the familiarity of her bedroom. But as they began to move, Hibiki leading her across the broad floor, she swallowed those desires and followed him.

“You look positively beautiful,” Hibiki whispered.

“Thank you,” Sakura blushed and wondered if she should compliment him back. Before she could think of anything, he spoke again,

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Yes, greatly,” she nodded, “And yourself?”

“I would guess there is enough food and drink to keep me happy for quite some time,” he laughed.

“Is that all it takes?” Sakura meant it entirely as a lighthearted joke, a way to keep the conversation up, but Hibiki fixed her with a curious intensity.

“That, and a beautiful woman.”

The music around them swelled into a brilliant cadence and Hibiki quickened their pace, broadening the space on the floor that they occupied. He twirled her out, then back against him. Despite his persistence to bring her ever closer, the layers of her skirts kept them at a distance, and for that, Sakura was grateful.

Lee watched on from the crowds with impatience; surely Hibiki could not occupy her attention all night. Lee had hardly seen Sakura since their last encounter, or since his conversation with the Uzumaki. He turned to look at the soldier across the room whose irritation at the sight before them was discernible.

Lee supposed they could agree on at least one thing.

As if it was not enough to see her in such elegance, not enough to know that this was all ending, not enough to know that he would never be contented lest she was in his arms, now he had to watch her as she swayed in the embrace of another man. 

“Uzumaki-san,” Sasuke almost started when he heard Kakashi’s voice beside him, but he was all too happy to divert his attention from Sakura, “The Emperor would like you to start training the new recruits at sunrise tomorrow.”

“Very well,” he nodded.

“Why don’t you turn in for the evening? Get a good night’s rest,” Kakashi smiled warmly, “I doubt there will be much excitement beyond this tonight.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sasuke bowed his head and tried not to bolt out of the doors from the relief of no longer having to watch such a spectacle.

In the cool night air, he, once more, found himself able to breathe outside of the confines of her reach. But then his hands slipped inside the pockets of his pants, and he felt the rough edges of her key.

_Almost_ out of her reach.

He pulled the key out and turned it over in his palm. Such a small thing to hold so much sway over him. Perhaps if he destroyed it, it would alleviate his temptations.

Sasuke sighed heavily and slipped the key pack in his pocket. He had to stop this, to snuff out the flame that still burned for her in his heart, to quell the hope that was still evident in her eyes. He started for her rooms, then thought better of it - he wouldn’t be able to explain to the guards why he needed to wait for her in there - and bumped right into Hinata as she hurried out of the bustling hall.

“Uzumaki-san!”

“My apologies,” he steadied her on her feet.

“No, I am sorry, how clumsy of me,” she seemed reticent to ask, “Are you retiring for the night?”

He nodded.

“Pardon me, but Sakura-chan has requested that you see her this evening, so that she may return the book she borrowed from you,” Though Sasuke wondered if Sakura had said anything to her, Hinata was none the wiser. In fact, she treated it as the most ordinary request to come from the Emperor’s daughter. Fine, he would play along.

“Of course,” Sasuke nodded his head, “I will come find her after the festivities are through.”

“Thank you, Sasuke-san,” Hinata bowed and left him alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Orochimaru stood at the window of his office on the upper floor of the central most tower in Konoha. He overlooked the moonlit stone mountains that surrounded his province, as he ruminated over the document in his hand. The words written across the thin paper, whisperings from his spies across the border, were unsettling, yet, somehow, also reassuring.

But most of all, he found them to be infuriating.

“You asked for me?” Obito inquired as he entered the room. Orochimaru turned his head to the side, glimpsing at Obito in his peripheral.

“Lock the door.”

Obito did as instructed, then approached his Lord.

“Read this,” Orochimaru, still facing the window, held the letter out. Obito took it cautiously, thumbing the edges of the page before he read through the message. In an incensed breath, Obito folded the paper and tossed it on Orochimaru’s desk.

“The Emperor has reinforcements now. No matter.”

“They have become desperate,” Orochimaru scowled as he turned away from the window, “He is gambling his Empire’s future against the might of the Akatsuki. He insults me with his arrogance as he bides his time with what little resources his dwindling empire can scrape together. They are on borrowed time. The Emperor is a fool if he thinks this will sway the tide of this war. He is only delaying his own demise.”

“So we strike back,” Obito amended, “Our numbers are greater, we can hit them harder than ever before. He will surrender, in time.”

Obito’s assurance did little to quell Orochimaru’s frustration. The failure to capture the Emperor’s daughter and weaken the palace had been a most obtrusive bump in their road to victory. If it had gone according to plan, Orochimaru would have stormed the Akatsuki stronghold and rescued her by now, garnering the Emperor’s support and respect. Not to mention, his daughter’s hand in marriage, which would have secured his place as the next Emperor and ushered in a new dynasty.

“Sir, what of Sasori and Deidara?” Obito asked, “Now that they have returned, could they not be of some use to us?”

“Sasori is ready,” Orochimaru capitulated, “But Deidara may yet require more preparation.”

He pondered for a quiet moment and then stepped toward the map hanging on the adjacent wall. He ran his finger along the line detailing his troops’ occupations.

“We will proceed with a full retreat of our soldiers from every province. Start pulling our ranks out of the smaller villages and send them down to the battlefield. Sasori as well,” Orochimaru nodded as he spoke, a calculated chill overcoming his voice, “Even if the Emperor attempts to reclaim those territories, we will decimate his battalion at the front.”

“At your command,” Obito bowed his head, “Let us end this war, once and for all.”

* * *

“I need to speak with Haruno-sama,” Sasuke addressed the guards at Sakura’s residence, “I’ll only be a moment.”

They let him in to the empty sitting room where he stood for a moment, gathering his wits, until the doors shut behind him. He took out her key, then thought better of it. Instead, he rapped his knuckles against the wood. He heard the creak of her bed and the shuffle of her silks before she threw open the doors, smiling at the sight of him. She drew him inside, turning the lock to ensure their privacy. She’d gone so long without his touch and now he was here, finally, with her again. 

But he didn’t reach for her, wasn’t holding her. He stood perfectly still, an unreasonable distance from her, and with a measured calm that chilled her.

“You did not come here to be with me,” it was not a question. The realization dawned on Sakura and she pulled her arms back, crossing them over the waist of her robe.

“No,” he admitted, muddled eyes trained on her. For the first time, she seemed so small and fragile to him, as though she were a reed subject to the will of harsh waters, as though he had the power to break her with little more than a word. She watched him, waiting for him to say something, to explain why he was standing in front of her so silent and composed. Kami, even if he lied to her, even if he told her they could be together forever, that he would never leave her again, that he was there only so that he might feel her in his arms again. Anything, she pleaded to herself, anything but the truth. But still, he just looked at her, eyes studying every wisp of hair or flush of skin; it was infuriating. She wanted to shake him and yank him out of his own thoughts, but she stayed herself.

And when the silence became too much, she spoke when he wouldn’t. 

“I desire only one thing on this day,” Sakura’s voice trembled against the flurry of emotions inside of her. For a moment, she felt so silly to be nervous, as though she were a young girl professing her feelings to a boy she liked. But then, she felt an oppressive heat engulf her as she stood there, watching him, and she struggled to swallow as her throat thickened. Her trepid frame locked up, but Sasuke just _looked at her._ And for that second, she was reminded of the man from her dream; he was not Sasuke, but a stranger. She forced the words from her mouth in a quiet demand, “Would you grant me this?”

He exhaled harshly, in what seemed to be relief - perhaps he did not have the fortitude to speak first - and shook his head adamantly.

“You ask for too much.”

“Then I am not asking,” she decided, frustration edging into her words.

“Sakura,” his brows furrowed as she came upon him suddenly. She was no longer the timid reed, but instead the rushing water that battered his shores, determined to overtake him.

“I command this of you,” her voice shook, even as she straightened herself.

“No,” Sasuke growled.

“As your sovereign - ”

“No!” He barked, but she did not flinch from him.

“You dare to defy me?” she challenged. Though he towered over her, a dark and brooding force to be reckoned with, Sakura stood against him while the air crackled between them with every unspoken word and unrestrained feeling. Her eyes were wild, pupils blown wider the longer she looked at him. Sasuke measured his breaths as anger pulsed through him, at her, at himself, at their mutual obstinance. He exhaled deeply and set his shoulders back. This was a mistake.

“Happy birthday, Sakura,” he turned on his heel to walk away. Desperate, she cried out,

“Why do you insist on behaving so selfishly?!” she flinched from the sound of her own voice. She had not meant to say such a hideous thing.

“Me?” He snapped and whirled around to face her, a tempest clouding his already blackened gaze, “You have become so accustomed to your own entitled ways that you could not fathom that there might actually be something in this world beyond your possession.”

Sasuke blanched; he had never regretted a string of words more than the ones he’d just uttered. He knew the second they were out that they were not true, and also that he could never take them back. Sakura’s voice quieted to a whisper as she grappled to compose herself.

“Is that what you think of me?” She would not let Sasuke look away as she pressed him, “That I am greedy?”

“Do you think me selfish?” He retorted, hardened by his angered words and growing resolve, “I am just as guilty for my role in this, perhaps more so. All I have succeeded in doing is taking more from you than I was ever meant to have. We have no life outside of these walls and to fool ourselves into thinking so only perpetuates more of this agony.”

“It is more than a life,” Sakura battled against the lump in her throat, “It is freedom, it is my very sanity that you threaten to take from me,” she looked up at him fiercely, “Is it because you are bored that you must torment me in such a way?” Her lip trembled, “Over and over again?”

His fists he didn’t know were clenched loosened as he saw the trickle of a tear fall down her cheek. She deserved more than this, more than him, and more than he could ever give her. He refused to believe that she would be better off with him in her life. What good had come from their secretive trysts? What had she possibly gained from those assignations in the forest? What benefit would come from his admittance that he was completely and utterly lost without her?

“It is because I cannot control myself,” his voice was raw and solemn as he lowered his gaze from hers, “And you should not have to suffer simply because I desire more than I can have. Our involvement will end here,” he turned away as he spoke his final words to her, “I will not disturb you any longer.”

“Sasuke-k - ,”

The door slammed shut behind him and the sound was enough to sever her heart completely in two.


	22. Chapter 22

_Orochimaru stepped over the charred remains of the Uchiha Compound, buildings and bodies alike felled before him. He pushed the hood of his cloak down to look out over the smoke and rubble. But for the still creaking wood, there was not a sound that disturbed the deathly silence around him. After years of planning, of pulling at the threads of this fragile Empire, here it sat, unravelled at his feet._

_The Uchihas were perhaps the Emperor's strongest allegiance, and now - a slow, sinister smile eased onto Orochimaru's lips. For this, though, he could not take all the credit. If Itachi had not slain the Emperor's son, his only male heir, and severed those ties so completely, the Akatsuki's assault on the Uchihas might not have been so successful._

_After all, the Emperor had left them hopelessly defenseless._

_Orochimaru started on the plundered path before him, counting the deteriorated porches, as he passed over torched flags bearing what was left of the Uchiha clan's crest. He paused before the ruins of one particular home. It had once been one of the larger estates, lodging one of the clan's most prestigious families, but he had not seen it for many years and it was little more than tinder now. Where there once was a wide front porch, the steps were now broken and burnt leading up to a doorless entryway._

_While the overall structure of the house remained, it looked as though it might collapse at the instance of the softest breeze. Nonetheless, Orochimaru stepped through the threshold, into the acrid air that occupied the once lived in space. The floor was black and every step he took forward was threatened by a creak of the wooden slats beneath him._

_He stood in the parlor space, eyes passing over the evidence of the family's struggle. From the tea table they had attempted to prop in the doorway to the wardrobe that lay slanted against the window, they had all been futile efforts. What was left of the walls held half-burnt tapestries, where once each thread had woven together the story of the elder Uchiha and his endowed family._

_Orochimaru was quiet as he took in the encompassing morbidity of it all, when suddenly the ceiling groaned a low, long creak. He raised his head in time to see a large beam fracturing just above him and jerked out of the way. It plunged straight through the floor, splintering the scorched wood in every direction. Orochimaru shielded himself from the debris and waited a beat as the dust settled, listening for any indication of further reactions. When he was met with silence, he proceeded through the foyer to the cooking area. An abandoned tea set had been thrown to the floor beside a stray, cracked pot streaked with dried blood. Orochimaru crouched beside it, seeing the beginnings of small droplets that made up a trail through to the back of the house._

_He stood slowly, following the spatters of blood until the pools on the floor became larger, wetter, and he found himself looking down at the hunched, lifeless bodies of Fugaku and Mikoto. Orochimaru was placid for a prolonged moment, an uncharacteristic thoughtfulness coming over him. There was a peculiar duality playing out between the memories in his mind and the reality at his feet. Fugaku's rough voice and Mikoto's angelic laugh rang in his ears, but their lips were still. They reached for one another, arms outstretched and fingers just there, but not quite touching._

_Orochimaru paced around them once, twice, and settled on his knees beside Fugaku's head. His eyes, though they were still wide and open to the world, cast towards Mikoto's, were entirely vacant now. They gave no indication as to whether he had ever feared for his life._

_But for his wife's, his sons', perhaps. Orochimaru's hand rested for a moment over Fugaku's forehead, his pale skin matching that of the dead man beside him._

_"You can rest now, my friend," his voice fell soft even in the near vacant room, "Your fight is over," in the privacy of the moment, Orochimaru shook terribly. A frighteningly mortal sorrow befell his features as he closed Fugaku's eyes, "I thank you for your sacrifice," then, fondly, he reached over to Mikoto and brushed the errant strands of hair from her face. His fingers lingered on her frigid cheek. This could have been so different, he thought, so much easier. He leaned forward to whisper in their ears, "But the war is just beginning. I am sorry you will not be there to witness it."_

_A squeak from the front of the house indicated he was no longer alone. Orochimaru straightened himself and stood, a threatening calm befalling him._

_"Sire," one of his soldiers appeared behind him, "The Uzumakis must have fled before the raid on Konoha. We can not find them."_

_Orochimaru stiffened, eyes screwing shut as he hissed his displeasure. He turned sharply to face the man._

_"They were warned," he snarled, "They must have had help."_

_Orochimaru stormed through the remains of the house, turning over furniture, ripping down curtains, and tearing through screens, but he found no other bodies. He rounded on the soldier._

_"Fugaku's children, were they captured?"_

_"No, sir," the man buckled under Orochimaru's piercing glare, "Under your orders we searched, but we came up empty. We have placed blockades along all trade routes and our troops are sweeping the forests as we speak. Rest assured, we will find them both."_

_"He warned them," Orochimaru spat, "He warned them. Send Obito to find Itachi. We must locate him before the emperor does," he paused and hissed, "Alive," Orochimaru stepped through the threshold of what used to be the Uchiha's entryway and muttered on a sharp breath, "He is of no use to us dead."_

* * *

"We are a clan," Obito fingered the hem of his sleeve where just beneath it resided the branding on his skin. It itched with the memory of its birth, "We act as one. Your strength does not belong to you," he released the thin cloth, letting his arms fall to his sides, "You are only as strong as the stability of the clan. You are only as strong as your devotion. Those who question that have no place here. That is why we do this."

Sasori stared at the heated metal of the branding iron that sat in a bed of unruly flames. He was on his knees on the floor of the temple beneath the Hokage's tower, beside the stone mantle that housed the grand marble basin of fire. The heat of it licked up the back of his neck, sweat beading all over his body as he waited in anticipation.

On either side of him sat raised pews that jutted from the walls. During any ordinary ritual, they would be filled with hooded figures in their Akatsuki cloaks looking out over their newest conscript. But at this time, they were startlingly empty.

Obito turned to regard Sasori, who tore his eyes from the branding iron to look up at his mentor. He was not dressed in his Akatsuki cloak, he was not dressed in any formal uniform in fact. Rather, he wore plain, loose linens and his feet were bare against the cool floor. The image would have been less than imposing, if not for the menacing and meticulously marble carved serpent that towered in mid-strike behind him; Uwabami, The Skilled Devourer.

"You must be prepared to bleed for us," Obito continued. Carefully, Sasori slid his tunic off, letting it gather at his elbows and exposing his hunched shoulders, "To fight for us," Obito gripped the handle of the iron and began twisting it through the fire, "And to die for us."

"I pledge myself to the clan. For now, and until the day I am struck down defending it," Sasori looked up at Obito with wide, but determined eyes, "I am ready."

"I know you are," Obito's lips curled up in a wicked smile as he pulled the iron from the flames. With light footsteps, he came to stand behind Sasori, "So accept this gift and with it, the knowledge that you are of the chosen few to bear this branding," Obito brought the iron within an inch of Sasori's skin, close enough that he could feel the sear of its kiss before it had even touched him, "Those with the tattoo, they do not understand the pain we endure," Obito thrust the brand against the flesh of Sasori's shoulder blade.

Sasori choked and dug his teeth into his lips to contain the roar of pain that threatened to burst forth. His skin bubbled and burned under the white heat of the cooked iron.

"Though they pledge themselves just the same, they do not bear our responsibilities, they do not share in our obligations. They are followers, disposable in the name of our cause."

The smell of his flesh ablaze pervaded his flared nostrils, coiling his stomach into a grisly knot. He bit down harder, until his lips bled.

"Do not fight it!" Obito bellowed, pushing the iron harder against Sasori's skin. He wailed and shook as he struggled to keep himself upright, "To fight this pain is to give in to weakness! You are not weak!"

A blood curdling howl swelled from his throat then, reverberating against the cavernous walls around them. Obito tore the iron away, causing Sasori to cry out, and threw it with a loud clatter to the stoney ground. He paced around Sasori and kneeled before him. His head hung limply, sweat stinging his eyes as it dripped over his quaking body. Obito raked a hand through Sasori's hair and yanked it backwards. Sasori's pupils were blown wide as they slipped over Obito's grinning face, unable to gain purchase on any one spot.

"To be branded, is to be elite. In this clan, you are considered aristocracy now," Obito watched as the haze slowly cleared from Sasori's glassy orbs, "Anyone with a tattoo, they answer to you, they take orders from you, they follow _you_. Do you understand?" Sasori gulped, he was suddenly very thirsty, and nodded, "Your trials are not yet over and you have seen what happens to those who do not obey his will. Do not fail us as Kabuto did."

Sasori nodded once more. Obito pulled him against his chest and patted his head.

"Welcome, brother."

* * *

_"You are no diplomat," Fugaku chuckled, "Would that you were, you might be able to help our clan broker peace with the Emperor."_

_Orochimaru clicked his tongue. He sat at the Uchiha's tea table in their large front room, the smoke from the incense swirling between them._

_"There is no chance for peace. Long has he feared your power within the clan and your relations with Konoha."_

_"There is nothing to fear," Fugaku said incredulously, "And now he frets over these farcical rumors of a coup," he shook his head disdainfully, "Ridiculous."_

_"Perhaps he has become incompetent in his old age?" Orochimaru suggested, but Fugaku swatted his hand through the air._

_"I will not hear such lies about him. We may not agree on all things, but he is a fine ruler and deserves our respect as such."_

_Orochimaru bristled at the comment, but held his tongue as Mikoto waddled into the living area with a tray of tea. Fugaku took it from her hastily._

_"I told you to go and rest," Fugaku chastised his wife, but she ignored him as she set her hand on his shoulder to steady her descent to the floor so that she might kneel with them at the table. She gave her a husband a sweet smile and patted her swollen stomach softly as if to show him she could still be careful without being bedridden. Fugaku turned back to Orochimaru and grumbled, "The child is all but crowning and she insists on performing such tasks."_

_"My husband is under the impression that pregnancy is an illness," Mikoto grinned and patted Fugaku's hand, "I survived Itachi, I will survive this one."_

_"Where is Itachi?" Orochimaru asked out of polite obligation._

_"He is spending the summer at the palace," Mikoto beamed, "A young man of his nobility needs to learn the ways of court."_

_"And find a wife," Fugaku grumbled._

_"In due time, dear," Mikoto giggled, "He is still so young."_

_"Betrothals have no age requirement," Orochimaru remarked and Fugaku nodded._

_"I would wager that the Emperor's next child will be married off before they have left the womb," Fugaku jibed, causing Mikoto to scowl._

_"All for the advancement of one's own ambitions," she sighed._

_"You would know well of that, yes?" Fugaku raised a brow in jest at Orochimaru, "Being the diplomat you are?"_

_"I was only expressing my distaste for Minato's leadership," Orochimaru glowered at the cup of tea in front of him, "His trade negotiations have inhibited income for many families, a decision that was no doubt carried out under the Emperor's supervision."_

_"Politics is complicated," Fugaku reprimanded him, "Minato must act for the greater good. Do you think you could do better?"_

_Orochimaru grimaced. He had not come here looking for a lecture. He had come to gauge the level of support he could get from one of the most revered and noble clans across the Haruno Empire._

_He supposed he had been given his answer._

_The truth was, he_ knew _he could do better. Minato was weak, a well known sympathizer to the Harunos and a lackey to the Emperor himself. He was no leader. Orochimaru had already amassed a number of revolutionists eager for a change in governance, but he was resolved that he would not move without the endorsement of the Uchihas and their venerated leader._

* * *

It was not training.

It was torture.

Sasori screamed into the night, but his declaration of pain scarcely made it past the tops of the towering trees that surrounded him in the forests just beyond Konoha. He dropped the bloody knife from his shaking hands to the muddy ground. A thunderstorm had settled above him just a few hours ago and already his footing was slipping along the unstable forest floor. He leaned against the wet, mossy trunk of the closest tree and panted heavily. Hands still trembling, he slipped his shirt off, balling it up to press it against the broad cut on his abdomen that he'd just taken the knife out of.

He cursed under his breath. He had been running the same course through the forest for a month now, but every time he started anew, the patterns changed. There were certain things he knew to expect in his trials now, but he never could predict when exactly they would appear, hence the blade that had been lodged in his stomach.

Sasori slumped to the muddy ground; he had to rest for a moment, but he knew that they were not far behind.

Eyes darting about, he took catalogue of his surroundings. It seemed there was nothing but trees and any trail that might have led him somewhere had surely been washed away by the rain. Salvaging what little strength he had left, Sasori snatched up the blade and pushed off the ground. He stumbled upright, his bare feet muddy and raw, his legs aching from exertion, bruises and cuts inscribed on his skin. The edges of his vision buckled and blurred as he swayed forward.

But still, he kept on.

Everything he suffered through was a lesson, a valuable piece of wisdom imparted upon him by those that had deemed him worthy enough to help lead this clan. It was _he_ that had been branded, not Deidara.

Or Kabuto.

Sasori pushed onward, lurching through the dim, wet night. It was _he_ who had been chosen to complete these trials. Not Deidara or Kabuto. Sasori heard the crunch of fallen branches behind him and he took to the base of the nearest tree. Looping his soiled shirt around his waist and taking the hilt of the knife between his teeth, he started to climb.

Every reach of his arm towards the next branch felt as though he were tearing the wound at his stomach centimeter by centimeter. He was grateful for the obstruction in his mouth that muffled the sounds of his distress from the pursuers. Finding a thick enough branch, Sasori hoisted himself up, brandished the knife, and perched there. His vision fizzled out for a second long enough that when he regained consciousness he had to recover his hold on the trunk to keep from falling. He steadied his breath, battling for lucidity as he looked down at the wound at his side. Had there always been that much blood? He shifted his position to lean against the wet bark and pressed his hand against his stomach in an attempt to stall the bleeding as he waited for them to close in. With the rainfall and the coverage of the leaves in the night, he knew he had the element of surprise. He need only hold on, he thought, as black creeped into his peripheral - for the right -

* * *

_"Itachi is the prodigy, not me," a young Obito stood just a few feet from Orochimaru on the outskirts of the compound, beside the forests that led to Konoha._

_"I do not need Itachi," Orochimaru shook his head, "He is too young, too close to the Emperor," he gave Obito a knowing look, "Too much like his father. He does not understand the struggle of people like us, he does not see the need for change as we do. If I can not get Fugaku's support, then I need somebody within the Uchihas that I can trust. Somebody that can get close enough to listen and report back to me."_

_"I can not betray my clan," Obito shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He knew of the plight in Konoha, of the families whose occupations had become so threatened by the trade expansions that they could barely keep themselves from destitution. He also knew of the growing unrest between the Uchihas and the Emperor. What had started as mere disagreements regarding the Emperor's decisions not to instigate a preemptive war against a burgeoning threat in the East had escalated into a threat of action from the Uchihas._

_"Your clan is divided," Orochimaru said plainly, "Half support the emperor and the other half desire to go to war. A divided clan is a weak clan, made even more so when their own leader does not take critical action," he scrutinized Obito for a long moment, "Your clan is divided and divided you will fall. But if you join me, I can promise you a new clan. One that fights_ for _each other instead of against each other."_

_"I," Obito started to speak, but his words caught in his throat. Orochimaru's slitted eyes narrowed as he looked down at the young soldier. At his age, he was ripe for the pickings of war - strong, virile, "I can not betray my clan."_

_And loyal to a fault._

_"Your fealty is wasted on them," Orochimaru grimaced, "Such talent should be leading the masses, not following them."_

_"Orochimaru-sama, forgive me, I meant no disrespect, but - "_

_Orochimaru cut him off with a swift wave of his hand._

_"Apprehension is natural, but it is a weakness I can not afford. The man who hesitates is the first to be struck down. We have no room for such failure in this clan. If you wish to remain with the Uchihas, so be it, but mark me when I say this," Orochimaru's temperament altered in a flash. No longer was he the acclaimed general, one of Konoha's finest, that Obito had heard so many stories about. In his piercing eyes now lay the truth of his nature and the reality of his intent. With a dark whisper, he hissed, "They will be of the first to fall."_

_Obito's breath hitched and he stood frozen as he watched Orochimaru mount his horse and take off. He disappeared into the thick of the forest, the pounding of hooves slowly dissipating._

_It was not the first time Orochimaru had come to him about information concerning the Uchihas, but Obito had a sinking feeling that this would be the last. While Orochimaru had mentioned on occasions that he was building his own clan, he kept every detail incredibly secretive; Obito did not even know what they called themselves. But now he was being offered the opportunity to not just join them, but to lead them as well._

_Obito looked off in the direction of the Uchiha compound as tendrils of uncertainty wound their way around his heart. He had lived there all his life, grew up there, but even he had to admit his frustration at Fugaku's obstinance. If he wanted to engage in war then he should do it, but this constant shuttling back and forth between him and the Emperor was detrimental to their clan's prosperity. They appeared cowards incapable of decisiveness to their enemies, ripe for a militant strike._

_What's more, Obito had been overlooked as a recipient of the great privilege to study at the Emperor's court. Fugaku's first son, the compound's proudest accomplishment, had gone instead, despite his younger age. It was the clan leaders' way of communicating to Obito that he was not worthy of further education and thus would not be considered for a role of leadership at any time in the future. His fate had been written and sealed without any say on his part. What's more, with his family long gone, there was no one in the clan to advocate for him._

_But it seemed Orochimaru was willing to._

_Obito pondered for a moment, feet rooted to the ground._

_Could he ever betray his clan?_

* * *

"Welcome back," Obito said as Sasori blinked his eyes open, "You fell out of a tree," he said flatly.

"What?" Sasori turned his head, taking in his surroundings. He was in a dark room lit only by candlelight, with no windows and only one shut door. Obito sat in a wooden chair beside the small cot Sasori was laying on.

"I said you fell out of a tree," Obito gestured to the bandages around Sasori's middle, "You lost a lot of blood."

"How long - How long did I last?" He lifted his head as best he could.

"Seven hours."

Sasori cursed and his head fell back against the pillow. He winced as a dull pain erupted across his skull.

"Perhaps I was wrong about you," Obito mused.

"Sir, I swear I - "

"Do not swear to me," he frowned, "If you do not succeed, then the answer is simple. You will not have deserved that brand. You would not belong here. You will have failed and we have no place for those who fail this clan."

Sasori was silenced by Obito's words. He wished to turn his head, to hide his shame, but he forced himself to look into his mentor's eyes. He could not begin to decipher the intricate puzzle that lay there, and he would not dare to try, but he had to wonder if there was any hope left for him somewhere within Obito's mind.

"Do not swear to me," Obito whispered harshly, "Your word means nothing until you have proven yourself through action."

"I will try again," Sasori uttered with weakened determination.

"Yes, you will," Obito stood quickly and looked down at him, "Tomorrow morning. Get some rest."

Sasori swallowed his protest as he watched Obito walk out of the room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

* * *

_Obito followed his master at a distance, stepping with quiet, shoeless feet into the cavernous room after Orochimaru. The door shut behind them with a heavy thud. The space was large and empty but for a basin of fire positioned in the middle of it and a large marble carving that, even in its early stages, Obito identified immediately._

_"Uwabami?" Though his voice was soft, his words rang throughout the wide room. Orochimaru moved to the basin and reached into his pocket to pull out a small drawstring silk pouch. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled out a large piece of what looked like black glass. He tossed it into the fire and a plume of smoke rose steadily, fanning out to every inch of the room. He breathed in deeply._

_"The Skilled Devourer," he said, and gazed up at the unfinished statue before kneeling on the cool stone floor before it. Orochimaru swept his hands outward, palms raised to the ceiling, as he bowed forward. Under his breath, he began to mutter unintelligible prayers, his body undulating with every syllable that passed through his lips. Obito stood at the back of the room, watching with reverence and apprehension as his sight became clouded by thick, black smoke. Soon, his master was nothing more than a white speck at the center of his field of vision, and then he disappeared completely, "Uwabami is gluttonous, greedy. He takes as he pleases."_

_Obito spun around; it sounded as though Orochimaru's voice were surrounding him, encompassing him. It was as though he could hear it in his ears, his mind, his soul and feel each word on his own tongue._

_"Uwabami does not know remorse, he has no reason for guilt. All he consumes has always belonged to him."_

_"Orochimaru-sama," Obito choked on the smoke around him, keeling over until the floor met his outstretched hands. He rolled onto his back, hacking, chest heaving and throat constricting. His fingers scrambled for a hold on the stone beneath him as his back curled into a sharp arc._

_"Do not fight it, Obito, let him in," once more, Orochimaru's voice seemed not to come from any central point, but rather from the very smoke that sought to suffocate him. Obito gasped, a huge gulping breath - the air invaded his lungs, expanded his chest, permeated his mind - and suddenly, he went very still. His eyes were wide, pupils large enough to swallow his irises whole, but he was not looking, he was_ seeing. _The smoke around him calmed, ebbing and flowing with his steady breath, coiling in small clouds that seemed to envelope him in a velvet embrace, "Though we may not possess wealth, nobility, or power, it does not mean that these things do not belong to us. It does not mean that they are not ours to take. It does not mean that we do not_ deserve _them."_

_Obito was silent, watching the stirring smoke above him. Something was forming within it, he could see it, but he could not quite make out the shapes._

_"All that we desire can be ours."_

_They were eyes, maybe. Eyes that bore into his soul and arrested his breath with a single glance. Eyes that he saw even when he closed his. He inhaled again, gathering all he could in a single breath. The smoke expanded around the eyes, shaping the soft features of her face, wispy tendrils making up her hair, and then, finally, her thin frame. Obito stared in utter disbelief at the sight. He dare not move, nor speak, nor even think for fear of disturbing the vision before him. All he could do was breathe, every inhale enhancing the clarity of her effigy._

_"What is it you desire, Obito?"_

_The girl seemed to bristle at the sound of Orochimaru's voice, her smokey edges twitching. Her head turned away, those haunting eyes looking around for the source of the sound._

_"Wealth? So that you may go where you please? Do as you wish?"_

_Obito didn't answer, his gaze adept to the jittery silhouette before him, but Orochimaru's voice rippled around him, his words echoing in waves. The eyes closed._

_"Is it nobility? So that you may earn their respect? Lead your own clan?"_

_The girl folded in on herself, forehead pressed against the tops of her knees. Her arms came up around her and the illusion collapsed. Her form dissolved until it became one with the smoke that had created her. A single, stinging tear fell from Obito's left eye. He did not move, his body melting into the stone beneath him. He did not search for her, he knew she was gone, so he simply laid there, looking up at the smoke, but not seeing._

_"Or is it power?" Orochimaru's voice took on a deep vibrato that wrenched Obito backwards, through the floor until he was falling, falling, falling. . ._

_He slammed against the stone of the temple with a sharp gasp, wild gaze staring up into two slitted eyes. Uwabami._

_"So that you will be strong enough to protect them?" No, not Uwabami. Orochimaru-sama. He was kneeling above Obito, with a knowing grin, "To protect her?"_

_Obito scrambled to his feet, tripping over his own instability and landing on his hands and knees. His throat was raw, as if he had been chanting, screaming her name. Orochimaru did not help him, nor did he chase after him, he simply watched as his prodigy's senses slowly returned. Obito heaved, a sudden, rasping cough working through his chest and up his throat. His eyes watered and his body shook with the effort to expel whatever it was trying to reject, but nothing came up. Orochimaru seemed to ignore his suffering as he stood slowly and padded softly across the room._

_"This place was once a temple," he began, "Long before Minato took his position, it fell into disrepair; I doubt even he knows of its existence. When I have finished it, it will be a shrine for us, for our clan. Uwabami will be our guide, but the Akatsuki will be our vessel for all that we will accomplish," Obito collapsed on his side, taking deep, shuddering breaths. His vision swam, "If it is power you desire, the power of strength, the power to do right," Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, his next words lancing through the bubbling pain in Obito's heart, "The power to avert such tragedies, so that you do not have to suffer as you have for so long," Orochimaru nodded assuringly, "I can give it to you," he extended his hand outward, palm facing up, "You need only join me. Help me lead the Akatsuki, and the world, towards a new beginning."_

_Obito stared at Orochimaru's hand, and smiled._

* * *

"There is no clemency here. If you are tested and you fail, it is death. You are given no second chances. Kabuto - Kabuto, he didn't understand what we were doing, what was being asked of us. He lacked the vision and the devotion that I see so clearly in you. And he paid the price for it. If he had been patient, if he had trusted in our plan - ," Obito let out a frustrated yell, "It was his fault. It was his fault that we failed Lord Orochimaru. And Takahiro's."

"Do not fool yourself," Deidara scowled.

"You are the fool," Sasori stared at his hands cupped in his lap, "That you cannot see the severity of our situation here is most troublesome."

"You could have saved him," Deidara shook his head in disbelief, "You could have told Orochimaru-sama the truth."

"Then we would all be dead," Sasori glowered, "He gave his life so that we may carry on. Let his sacrifice not be in vain."

"Coward," Deidara spat.

"You were not there!" Sasori barked. His shoulders tensed and it caused the brand on his back to ignite in pain. He winced and gripped the hilt of his sword. Air hissed through his teeth as he inhaled sharply. Deidara watched him carefully, as one would a wild animal, "You did not see the light go from his eyes, nor hear him gasp his last breath."

Deidara heaved himself up with a long breath that suggested he was exerting more energy than he had. It had been a difficult month of training since their return and every day only brought greater tribulations than the last. While Deidara had been engrained with the new recruits, Sasori had been isolated from the other men. Since his indoctrination, much of his time was spent with Obito, learning the ways of an Akatsuki leader, a war chief. He could not imagine what that was like.

As Deidara stared down at him, the man who had convinced and recruited him to join Orochimaru's legions, he felt something akin to pity. He was willing to wager that this was far from what Sasori had hoped it to be. Hell, he knew it was more than he or Kabuto had bargained for. And now, the dreams and promises of glory seemed so far off.

They should have left that night, he thought, run away and never looked back.

Deidara shuffled and began walking towards the village, murmuring under his breath,

"He was my friend, too."

* * *

_"He claims to be a child of the Uzumakis, Naruto's brother," Sasori explained._

_"What is his name?" Orochimaru hissed._

_"Sasuke," Sasori answered, "Uzumaki Sasuke."_

_Obito jerked from his position near the door and Orochimaru shot a quick glance to his prodigy, a threatening caution to give nothing away._

_"They just call him Uzumaki-san," Sasori continued, "He keeps to himself mostly, especially as he is always beside the Emperor's daughter. I do not know how, but he knew to come for her that night."_

_"And Yamato was found dead in her quarters?" Obito clarified and Sasori nodded, "Then the farmer betrayed us as well."_

_Orochimaru's blood boiled at the thought. His men were meticulously chosen, consecrated servants that followed his path without doubt or deviation. And now, to have not simply one, but two traitors -_

_"Sir, I do not think Takahiro would have done such a thing. He despised the Emperor."_

_"Then how would you explain his abandonment?" Orochimaru sneered._

_"I can not," Sasori's shoulders slumped, "I only know that the Uzumaki was the one to kill him. No one else was around."_

_Orochimaru and Obito shared a brief glance before Sasori was dismissed with a wave of the Lord's hand. The silence between them was palpable then, stretching from seconds to minutes, until Obito could not contain himself any longer,_

_"Sasuke," he breathed - a moment of composure - until his clenched fist slammed into the wall beside him._

_"Calm yourself," Orochimaru raised his hands._

_"All this time, he has been hiding with the Uzumakis," fury coiled taut around every word that left his mouth, "And Itachi? We never found his body! All this time," he muttered it over and over, a mantra that fed oil to the fire, a truth too infuriating to grasp._

_"No," Orochimaru shook his head, "That would be too reckless. The Emperor would know Itachi by face, but Sasuke - Sasuke was barely born when the alliance between the Harunos and the Uchihas began to crumble. He was only a child when Seiichi was killed," realization eclipsed Orochimaru's features as he stood slowly. A sense of marvel overcame him as he turned his palms to the sky and laughed emphatically, "The Emperor might not have even known that Fugaku and Mikoto bore a second child! And now, he resides right under the Emperor's nose," Orochimaru fisted his hands and swept them across the surface of his desk. Papers, writing instruments, the candle and its holder, all of it went clattering to the ground in his sudden rage, "And we can not even use this to our advantage!"_

_"Sir," Obito did not flinch from the wild look in Orochimaru's eyes, "We have to find a way to tell the Emperor. If Sasuke is revealed to him, his trust in your reign would become infallible. We would have our alliance in a heartbeat."_

_"We cannot reveal him," Orochimaru strode about the room in monstrous steps, the train of his yukata twisting with every turn, "We have no proof nor explanation as to how we discovered him."_

_"We can not just let this be," Obito pleaded, "What if he has been concealing Itachi?"_

_"For what?" Orochimaru challenged, "If Itachi were still alive, Sasuke would not be hiding out at the palace. He is alone," he paused to look pointedly at the man before him, "As you once were."_

_Obito bowed his head. The memory of his betrayal all too fresh in his mind. In a reluctant admittance, he whispered,_

_"Never forget where you come from," Obito gritted his teeth and looked away. He was ashamed of his heritage, ashamed to share a name with a clan whose legacy had once been so feared, but was now nothing more than a stain on the history books, "I thought we had wiped them out, that they were all dead."_

_"Have patience," Orochimaru said as he composed himself. This revelation was unsettling, but it presented them with a devastating strike to the Emperor's stability when the moment arrived, "We will see our victory soon enough."_

_All they had to do was wait._


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is staying safe and sane right now.

**JULY**

If nothing else, Sasuke found himself to be most proficient when it came to creating distractions to avoid his problems. He most certainly was not always successful, but with his new responsibilities, he found it an almost effortless task to produce these distractions. In fact, he had designed a near perfect regimen for his new life at the palace. His day to day activities no longer hinged on the expectations of his evenings with her and he had almost convinced himself that he was better off for it. 

Wake up.

Eat.

Train.

Eat.

Train.

Eat.

Train.

Sleep.

Wake up.

Eat.

Train.

Eat.

Train.

Eat.

Train.

Sleep.

Wake up.

Eat.

Train.

He can feel her eyes on him again.

Eat.

Train.

Eat.

Train.

He should avoid the gardens on his way back to the barracks.

Sleep.

Dream.

_“Oh, Sasuke-kun!”_

**Wake up.**

Don’t eat.

Train.

Must she stare so unabashedly?

Train.

Train.

Train.

Avoid the gardens.

Lay awake in bed.

Don’t sleep.

Just think. . . Think of her.

_“I would have you fuck me,” that trace of humor present in her smile as she crawled forward suggested that this beguiling woman held more control over him than he had ever hoped to possess over himself. Her fingers spread over his abdomen and hooked beneath the waistband of his pants. She pulled them down until his length sprang free. That teasing smile vanished as she pursed her lips to kiss the vein that pulsed and ran along the underside of his member, “I would have you fuck me,_ over and over again.”

Sasuke jolted upright, cot creaking under the sudden shift in his weight, but not a single recruit stirred; he envied them for that. These past months he had been most ineffective when it came to exhausting himself for the purpose of achieving a good night’s sleep. He slipped off his bed, standing quietly, and felt the uncomfortable bob of his cock in his cotton pants. With a stifled groan of frustration, he tucked it into his waistband and wandered outside. 

The air was humid, torrid and oppressive against his skin like a blanket he could not shed. He had never much favored one season over another, but as the summer days wore on with no end in sight he found himself longing for the frosty bite of winter. And between the constraint of the heat and the smother from his own thoughts, he felt as if he’d been set adrift on a perpetual sea with nothing to sate his hunger nor quench his thirst. He knew there were worse things to be plagued with, but it did not stop him from dwelling in his suffering on a night such as this.

Turning from the corner of the barracks, he started on the trail through the gardens. The sky was clear, the moon shining down on the sprawling pond that once more housed Sakura’s koi. He caught glimpses of their shimmering scales as he passed by, while, in a tree somewhere, he could hear the soft croon of a bird. He found the tranquil splendor of the palace in the middle of the night to be truly an arresting sight. If he had any other reason to be out at such an hour, he might even enjoy it. But, Sasuke had taken many walks like this in recent months; his midnight maladies were a stubborn recurrence that allowed him no reprieve. She was always there, in every contour of the shadows that lurked around him, laying in wait in the crevices of his mind, entwined within his very being.

Stopping short just before the willow tree, he almost thought of turning back. He could attempt another try at sleep, despite the obvious relief this shameful action would provide him. Sasuke shifted uncomfortably on his feet, the stiffness of his member still yet to abate. He was growing tired of this routine, physically, mentally - emotionally. How many more nights like this could he endure?

At least one more, he thought.

Bowing his head, he slipped under the willow tree for an attempt at secrecy. In an adept manner, he pulled his cock out and began stroking himself right there. He pumped his fist quickly, squeezing the head with every movement up his shaft. Though his eyes were shut tightly, he could see her so clearly at the forefront of his mind. Her supple pink lips were wrapped around his painfully hard member, her nails digging into his thighs as she worked her mouth up and down. Kami, he missed her mouth; the way her tongue would taunt him from base to tip, the way her lips would squeeze him at the base, and - _fuck_ \- her eyes, the way she would look at him. So greedy, so wanton -

Sasuke hissed as he felt the heat of his release rise through him and he spilled his seed on the ground at his feet. He took a moment to collect himself, leaning back against the trunk of the tree as perspiration ran down his feverish skin. Raking a hand through his hair, he exhaled in long shuddering breaths, then tucked himself back into his pants.

* * *

Sakura fingered the edge of the parchment as she read the passage yet again, while, absently, her right index finger twirled around a stray strand of hair that tickled her chin. Though it was nighttime and the candle had burned almost to its wick, she did not move to light another. With a long exhale through her nose, she tossed the letter onto the pile that cluttered her table by the window. There were so many sentiments, such elaborate and eloquent words gracing each page.

While most were written by Hibiki, entreating her affections, it seemed that her appearance at her party had sparked interest from a number of courtiers that she had scarcely spoken a word to. There was little to be done about it, so she amassed a collection of these doting words like a curator of fine art. She had enough to fill her sitting room, her bedroom, and her lonely nights. She brought her feet up on the chair, drawing her legs against her chest, chin coming to rest on the tops of her knees. All meaningless, she thought with a bereft sigh, at least to her.

There came a soft knock at her door, causing Sakura to rise to her feet.

“Come in,” she called and one of her guards entered.

“Haruno-sama, I am assuming my post for the evening. Do you require anything?”

“No, thank you,” she offered a smile, “I think I will turn in now.”

The guard nodded and bowed before taking his leave. Since the cold nights had ceased, there was no reason for her soldiers to shelter in her sitting room while they kept watch, and Sakura was grateful for that addition to her privacy. As the door shut, Sakura blew out the candle and retreated to her bedroom. Drawing her curtains closed, she began to remove the many layers from her kimono. It was a task she now found to be much less enjoyable without _him_ to undress for.

Although, it had not stopped her from imagining he _was_ still there, watching her. So she stood amongst the heap of silks on her floor, slipping her hands over her shoulders and between her breasts. She closed her eyes as her fingertips glided over her abdomen. There was a familiarity in the places that she touched herself, in traversing the same paths he had on those many frigid nights. Sakura squeezed her breast and rolled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, sighing softly.

But in the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t the same.

_“Sakura.”_

She slipped a finger between the lips of her cunt. She was wet already - just thinking about him had her _aching_. When she had seen him on the grounds this morning, training the new soldiers - Kami, he was magnificent to look at. A moan escaped her as she thought of his chiseled torso glistening with sweat. How often had she run her hands down his chest? Felt the sharp outlines of his muscles? Or seen that same fierce determination in his eyes when he made her come? Her fingers dipped into her eager passage; she had to work two in just to simulate the feel of one of his.

_“Sakura.”_

She could hear his voice, the desire laced within it, but she could not see him. Dropping the hand kneading her breast, she began circling her clit _._ She tried to recall the way he pressed upon that hive of sensitive nerves just right to coax her out onto the edge, as though she could will the sensation into existence.

But her hands were not his; the pads of his fingers were rough from years of brutal training. They had always added a pleasurable texture to his ministrations. Skura was too soft, too delicate, uncertain and fragile as she explored her own body. What’s more, she could not hold a candle to his thirst for her. She opened her eyes slowly as the fire of her fortitude slowly faded.

He was still not there and in his absence, he had left her an ever churning tempest that threatened to breach the shores of the world around her, decimating anything in her course.

* * *

Naturally, Sasuke found his only moments of relief to be when he was locked away in the Emperor’s study with Kizashi and Hatake-san to devise their plans of attack or in the endless hours spent sparring with his recruits out on the grounds. It was the only time he did not have to think, but he could hear the soldiers complaining about how unfair he was, how he pushed them beyond their breaking points and exhausted them beyond reason. He supposed he was taking his own frustrations out on them, abusing his authority to help distract him from the crippling reality of the last few months, because maybe if he wore himself to the brink of collapse, then he would be too tired to seek her out or speak her name or give her even so much as a single thought.

But these were notions that he now knew to be futile; he had predicted he would miss her, but he could never have imagined it would feel like this. 

Sasuke dared to glance up from his troop of soldiers to the other side of the lake. At such a distance, he could not clearly see her face, but he could still see her. She sat beside the willow tree with her ladies in the sweltering heat as they lounged under their wagasas and fanned themselves. He looked away quickly, hoping the brief slip of his control went unnoticed by her.

But of course it didn’t, because she always watched him, and Sakura’s heart had skipped when she saw his head turn in her direction.

“Sakura-chan,” Tenten waved the letter in front of her face.

“Apologies,” Sakura’s eyes snapped to Tenten’s, “I was lost in my thoughts.”

“This is from Hibiki. He bade me give it to you when I saw you next,” she said with a wry smile. Sakura took the letter from Tenten’s hand and folded it in her lap.

“Thank you.”

“Are you not going to read it?” Ino asked incredulously.

“Do not keep us in suspense!” Karin said excitedly.

“Ladies,” Sakura rolled her eyes, “I doubt it is much different from the others he has sent me. I think I have enough letters to stoke my fire through the next three winters.”

“Must be nice,” Ino scoffed and looked over to the many shirtless guards brawling with one another, “Karin, do you have any letters?”

“No,” Karin shook her head vehemently.

“Perhaps we should go get some then?” Ino raised her brows in a most suggestive manner. Karin shot to her feet and looped her arm with Ino’s. 

“I do believe we should,” she giggled and with that, they went off to go bother the new palace soldiers. Sakura looked after them with a wistful gaze, while Tenten tutted as they walked away.

“If they spent half their time furthering a pursuit that did not involve pining after men, I am certain they would have husbands already,” she said briskly. Hinata, who had watched the whole scene in apt silence, laughed aloud at that.

“Then what is my excuse?” Sakura asked pointedly.

“Stubbornness,” Tenten nodded without a second’s thought. Sakura sighed; she could not argue with that. It _was_ quite stubborn of her to desire only one man when she had the whole court at her disposal, “I should return to your mother. She is expecting me for tea.”

“Do enjoy yourself,” Sakura said to Tenten as she bowed and set off on the path. Glancing at Hinata out of the corner of her eye, Sakura remarked, “You may leave if you wish.”

“It is quite alright, Sakura-chan,” Hinata beamed, “I like it out here.”

Sakura cracked a smile and turned her attention back to the soldiers.

“I appreciate your company.”

As soon as he saw her head shift, Sasuke faced his recruits once more; stolen glances only succeeded in fueling his evening woes.

Motioning for one of the recruits to come forward, he decided he would swap places with him. It was rare that he engaged in combat with his troops, not because he felt himself above it, but between his duties as their general and the level of his skill, it was not always sensible. It was his responsibility now to watch over them and, though they were progressing quickly, it at times remained an unfair fight.

Sasuke knew this. But he needed a distraction.

* * *

Lee was beginning to think himself a fool. Naive for a man of his age and stature; ignorant and utterly senseless when it came to the ways of women. Granted, she was not a particularly common woman. Being full of whimsy and unparalleled in eloquence, she could be quite intimidating to the most stalwart of men.

Yet at the same time, she could be just as perplexing. Lee had found his efforts to understand her upset not only by her temperament and fickleness, but by other, unforeseeable factors as well. When Hibiki-san was not occupying her time, Sakura situated herself on the stone bench by the lone willow tree and looked out to the fields beyond her gardens that bordered the forest. Her gaze was fixed, but often far away, like a widow staring out at the horizon by the sea, searching for someone that would never return. Although, Lee knew exactly who Sakura was looking for.

He was out there everyday, from sunrise to sunset, training with the other soldiers. When Lee tried to pull her away, to distract her with his company, she became most resilient, drudging up one excuse or another. He was willing to admit that he perhaps had not handled their encounters with expertise or grace, but he could not understand her desire to sit and pine for the man across the gardens. Did she not understand the fruitlessness of her efforts? What did she see in him anyway? A lowly soldier could never hope to provide for a woman of her stature. What she needed in a husband was a future ruler, someone of wealth and prestige; a husband that could offer something to the Haruno legacy. How could she allow herself to fall in love with somebody like him?

Although, to his credit, the soldier _had_ heeded Lee’s words. There had been a regular rotation of guards at her doors the past few months and not a single one had been the Uzumaki. Still, Lee had to wonder what other obstacles he would have to endure just to achieve a fair chance with her.

As though triggered by that thought, Hibiki came sprinting towards Sakura and her ladies with a small wooden box in hand - no doubt another gift he wished to bestow upon the Emperor’s daughter.

Hibiki had become a most generous suitor. He had taken monumental strides to ensure Sakura had the finest jewelry, the most expensive silks, and the most luxurious treasures. With a loathsome frown, Lee considered how fortuitous Hibiki’s tragedy now appeared to be; he must have inherited a mighty fortune with his father’s passing.

Sakura laughed at Hibiki’s remark and threw her head back, catching sight of Lee just at the threshold of the gardens. He offered a smile, but she turned her head as though she had not seen him. He sighed heavily and reversed on his heel; it did not seem she wanted much to do with him lately anyways. As difficult as it was for him to fathom, Lee had to wonder if that was something he would never be able to remedy.

* * *

When it wasn’t a letter, it was a new necklace or a new coat or an ivory handled brush. Sakura sat by the window of her sitting room as the candle before her wavered and flickered. The gold so delicately weaved into a luxuriant chain danced in the warm light. Her fingers glanced the emerald stones that Hibiki remarked had reminded him so much of her verdant eyes.

Perhaps it was customary in these situations, when one was receiving such bountiful gifts, to inform one’s parents. After all, gifts such as these would most surely suggest a marriage proposal was on its way. Yet, seeing as neither her mother nor her father had said so much as a word to her about the newly returned suitor, Sakura had decidedly kept her mouth shut for fear of inciting any suspicions.

Furthermore, she had gone so far as to hide the jewelry so that they would not raise questions when anyone visited her rooms. Still, she felt obligated to make the occasional appearance in public with one of his tokens of affection prominently displayed on her neck or in her hair. She only hoped that no one would notice, least of all Sasuke. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she had forgotten him.

Sakura squeezed the necklace, letting it bite into her palm as her heart constricted. Why did she still hold such hope for him?

Standing sharply, she stormed to her bedroom and, with little care, tossed the necklace into the drawer of her bedside table.

* * *

That morning, he decided he needed a day away from the gardens, away from her magnetic presence and piercing stare. It being a particularly scorching day, he thought the coverage of the trees might serve them well. So, Sasuke led his recruits into the forest outside of the palace, set on a familiar path that looked almost like an entirely different world in the light of day. He stepped into the clearing, his troops fanning out before him to occupy what he now realized was an almost sprawling expanse of space; it had seemed so much smaller on those cold winter nights when it was just the two of them -

He quickly shook off that thought and turned to face his soldiers. It had been a clumsy first month as he acclimated to the prospect of telling other people what to do. Now, he had resolved himself to the fact that it might never be something he would ever be comfortable with, but it was his duty. As he looked out over their ranks, he felt a trickle of fear run down his spine at the thought; he was responsible for every one of their lives.

For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the profundity of that notion, because, as far away as it had seemed for so many months, they would be shipping out soon - the Emperor need only give the word - and there would be no time to think or feel or worry over these things.

So he let himself revel in that fear, clinging to it almost with a certainty that he may never experience an immense dread such as this again.

Nor belonging, or happiness, or. . .

Sasuke broke them into their divisions and started them on basic drills. As he marched across the clearing, watching for their form and execution, he supposed he could make use of the environment for the day. He imagined they could find ways to camouflage themselves in the towering trees around them; he might even be able to make a game of it. 

As he took another step, something snapped beneath his foot and the sound drew his attention to the ground. A slew of felled branches lay haphazardly on the grass before him. With furrowed brows he approached the nearest tree. He could see the fresh marks on the trunk where its arms had been hacked off with fury. Sasuke raised his hand, running his fingers over the notches in the bark; elongated, spirited strokes, most likely from a blade, had lacerated its entirety. They did not look like the marks of an animal and they were certainly not the marks he and Sakura had left from their nights of training.

He frowned; it had to have been accomplished with a sword.

Could this be her doing? No, she would not be so reckless as to - 

He huffed and clenched his fist.

Of course she would be.

Bristling, he turned back to his recruits.

What was she thinking?

* * *

The sun was sweltering above them and Sakura did not even have the reprieve of looking upon Sasuke as he trained with the other soldiers that day. If not out on the grounds, where could he be?

“Sakura-chan, please,” Ino whined, “It is too hot to stay out here.”

“Then go inside,” Sakura snapped, barely sparing a glance in her direction. Ino looked startled, taken aback by her sharp tone. Sakura winced; she knew she was being rude and she started to apologize, but Ino didn’t give her the chance. She stood abruptly to begin marching down the trail. With a curt nod from Sakura, Karin and Tenten scurried after Ino, both having a desire to attend to their friend as well as to get out from under the glare of the sun. Hinata, however, stayed by Sakura’s side, dutiful if not a bit concerned by her recent behavior. Sakura sighed and looked out over the shimmering lake. She could just make out the silhouettes of some of her koi from where she sat as they swam about without a care.

She had not imagined it would be like this. She thought she might feel pain or sorrow or anger or anything that was not the empty hope that swallowed her every morning. But she supposed that in itself was enough to make her angry, cause her sorrow, and inflict pain upon her. Each sunrise had brought with it new hope that he might change his mind, realize the mistake he made, and each nightfall reinforced the permanence of his decision, the loneliness that was her life now.

“You may go inside if you like,” Sakura turned her eyes on Hinata, who waved her fan in a motion so delicate that Sakura doubted she were getting any relief at all.

“I am all right, Sakura-chan,” she smiled sweetly, “The sun will set soon.”

“Have we been out here so long?” Sakura almost balked, but she restrained herself. How had she lost track of yet another day?

“Sakura-chan,” Hinata took a seat beside her on the bench, tentative in a way that was surprising even for her, “Y - You seem distracted lately,” she hesitated before murmuring her next words, “Troubled even.”

“I am sorry,” Sakura lowered her eyes, shoulders slumping, “Perhaps I have been - ,”

She paused for a long moment, long enough for Hinata to prompt her,

“You’ve been what?”

Sakura put her head in her hands, embarrassed for herself and everyone else who had had to witness her unbecoming behavior.

“I suppose everyone has taken notice of my demeanor?”

“Your mother - might have mentioned it to me,” her cheeks flushed as she revealed that, “But the girls and I have wondered for some time now. Lee, as well.”

Sakura was sure some involuntary expression had crossed her face at the mention of his name, because Hinata was quick to assuage her.

“He wants only what is best for you, as we all do,” she smiled sweetly, “He can not always express himself correctly at times. He’s just like Naruto-kun in that way. They are both such happy, carefree people that they often do not understand how to be sad.”

Sakura was quieted by her words. Hinata was wise beyond her years, speaking truths that Sakura had yet to even consider as such. Hinata provided a soothing presence that she supposed she’d been taking for granted lately.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” Sakura asked; she thought maybe they could both use the company. Surprised as she was, Hinata beamed,

“That would be lovely.”

* * *

Sasuke had dismissed his recruits for dinner when night began to fall. He stayed behind, making up an excuse about wanting to train some more before retiring for the evening; a notion that was not unheard of to them. They knew Sasuke only to be a ruthless soldier, a man obsessed when it came to his quest for strength. Not the lovesick fool who was currently hiding out in the forest trying to get a glimpse of the woman that haunted his every waking and dormant hour.

Sasuke slumped against a tree. Maybe he was being paranoid. What if it was just an animal? A very angry animal. Maybe it was one of his recruits getting in some additional practice after hours. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse, any reason to see her, even if only to tell her off for being so impulsive.

With a glance to the horizon, he realized he wasn’t sure how long he would have to wait to be certain. He should have been perturbed by how little that bothered him, but watching the last rays of the sun disappear, he found himself accepting of the fact that he did not give a single care.

It would be worth it if he got to see her.

* * *

It was a pleasant change for Sakura to have somebody seated opposite her to dine with after so long, and Hinata seemed quite enthusiastic about it as well. In fact, it caused Sakura to feel some guilt for what she was about to ask her.

“How long has it been since you last saw Naruto?”

“Mm,” Hinata chewed her food slowly before she responded, “Since his deployment, it has been over two years now.”

“Hinata-chan, may I,” Sakura cleared her throat and set her utensils down. She stared at her plate, though she knew Hinata’s eyes were on her, “May I ask you a rather intimate question?”

“An i-intimate question?” Hinata was puzzled, brows furrowing.

“Mhm,” she nodded.

“O-Oh, of course.”

“Have you and Naruto,” Sakura frowned as the words spilled out in erratic increments, “Have you - ever - together - ?”

Hinata choked and dropped her utensils on the plate.

“Oh, no I’m sorry,” Sakura scrambled to take the words back.

“Y - You mean - ?” Hinata’s cheeks flushed as she gasped for a breath, “That?”

When she was certain Hinata would not pass out from shock, Sakura nodded. All the sleepless nights bared naked in front of Sasuke could not have prepared Sakura for the embarrassment she would feel upon asking her friend about what she did in the comfort of her own bedroom.

“Yes - That. Have you ever done - that?”

“Oh, S-Sakura-chan, I do not think - ,”

“Of course, forgive me,” Sakura shook her head, “I should not have - ,”

“No,” Hinata said with a shake of her head, “It is all right. I just -,” she laughed, “It is not something I find myself discussing so openly.”

“Naturally,” Sakura gave a wry smile.

“No, we have not, but,” Hinata looked away then, a modest blush overcoming her cheeks, “There were times when things became quite, um, carnal.”

Sakura raised a curious brow, but quickly composed herself,

“Do you miss him? In that carnal way, I mean?”

Hinata flushed scarlet, her eyes snapping back to Sakura’s. There was a deep curiosity, an earnest desire, or rather a _need_ , to explore such a topic made plain in her gaze. Hinata suspected it might have something to do with her recent behavior. Had something happened between Sakura and Hibiki? Or was it Lee?

“Y-Yes,” she bowed her head as she quietly admitted it to Sakura, and herself, “Every night.”  
“I see.”

They sat in silence for a long while, Hinata fidgeting as her thoughts churned. Finally, she blurted out,

“Might I ask _you_ a question?”

“Of course.”

“You seem to spend a great deal of your time in the gardens now. Why is that?” There was no taking it back, so Hinata pushed forward, “You are quite pensive most days and it appears you do not much care for the company of others.”

Sakura was stunned, in part by the topic of the question, but even more so by her audacity. It took a moment to collect herself, a moment in which Hinata feared she had made a fatal overstepping.

“This past winter was so harsh,” Sakura clutched a hand to her chest, feigning an air of malaise, “I could scarcely stand it. I am grateful to be able to bask in the sun once again.”

“Oh,” Hinata seemed to think for a moment, as though another question burned on her tongue, but she nodded her head, “Yes, the weather has been most pleasant.”

* * *

Sasuke had laid upon the grassy floor to look up at the stars as the hours passed. He was beginning to doubt himself. Maybe he had been too hopeful, too desperate. He looked over to the tree missing its branches and the bark that had been scarred with ferocious incisions. Maybe it was something more sinister. Sasuke pulled himself into a seated position.

Or maybe it was nothing at all and simply to imagine that it might be, was enough to save him from the peril of his own despair. He sighed heavily, ruffling his hair with agitated hands. Just a moment more, he told himself, and then he would return to the barracks.

* * *

It was hours before they bid each other good night. Both Hinata and Sakura had refrained from further intrusive questions for the remainder of their dinner, but had found an agreeable median of conversation. When she had finally shut her doors to the world, Sakura knelt beside her bed and reached underneath it for her brother’s sword. She had housed it there for the last near five months. There was dirt on the hilt now from the many excursions she had taken with it into the forest and the scabbard had more than a couple new nicks at its opening.

From her wardrobe, she pulled out a sash and tied the scabbard around her waist, then grabbed her black cloak and draped it around her shoulders. This, too, had taken its fair share of abuse in the recent months. The edges were becoming tattered and soiled, the luster of the silk dulled at the hem. These were blemishes she could not easily explain away, so when not in use, the cloak remained at the bottom of her drawer like the terrible secret it was.

Securing a tie around her hair, she drew her hood up and reached for the book beside her bed. Sakura grabbed the folded piece of parchment she kept between the third and fourth page, before rushing to her window to unlock it. She gripped the bottom of the frame and pushed it gently up. By now she knew to tilt the left side just so to avoid that slight squeak that might give her away. One leg at a time, she slipped through the opening, then drew her curtains closed behind her. Setting the parchment on the sill, she gently lowered the frame and stepped away quietly towards the rear side of her rooms.

She would take the long way around to the forest, avoiding the open area of the gardens and sticking close to the palace structures so that she might hide in the shadows until she hit the trees. Every so often, as was the situation that night, a guard would leave his station to patrol and she would wait with bated breaths until he passed, then she would be on her way once more. She was practiced at this route now, knew the rotations of the guards, and was familiar with the areas of the palace that saw the least activity at night.

When she reached the border of trees, she traveled through the forest to the clearing that she and Sasuke had trained in on many a nights. Sakura did not have the weapons he used to supply her with, but she remembered all he had taught her and had been most astute when watching him teach his recruits.

Sakura took a breath and unsheathed her brother’s sword. Planting her feet in the cool dirt, she shrugged the cloak off her shoulders and widened her stance. With a sharp swing, she sliced the blade through the thick air. It was just as she’d seen Sasuke do many times before. Then, she jerked back, dodging an imaginary foe, to parry and lunge forward.

It was not so easy without an opponent, but she made do, twisting her form, flowing with the current of the wind. Sakura thought of everything he had taught her, of everything he had yet to teach her, of every day she had watched him impart upon his soldiers techniques she could only dream of mastering.

Her fluid motions hid the fire that burned under her skin. Yet as her blade struck the trees, bark flying around her, she let slip the scale of her fury. With vicious enthusiasm, Sakura hacked away at the trees around her, massacring branches that fell at her feet.

But in her mind, she was striking down the man that had held the blade to her throat.

* * *

He had not even managed to wake from a salacious dream as he had not yet succeeded in capturing one minute of sleep. He could not shake the image of the tree in the forest from his mind. _It had to be her._ Truthfully, he wouldn’t put it past her to endanger her own life just for the chance to use a sword. She did steal her brother’s from the gallery without regard for any punitive action.

Before he could formulate the thought, he was on his feet and dashing out of the barracks. Sasuke tore off in the direction of her rooms, winding behind the palace buildings to avoid being seen by the other guards. He had no desire to explain why he was running with such fervor so late in the night.

It wasn’t until he approached the back of her bedroom that he slowed to a brisk walk, keeping close to the outer walls. Rounding the corner, he inched towards her window. He would just peak inside, and ensure that she was asleep in her bed. This was not for his own curiosity, he was simply doing his duty as a palace guard. This was for her protection, he reasoned. Flush to the wall, he turned his head to look into the window, but saw the curtains were drawn closed. He grimaced and scooted closer. He tried to peer through the small opening between the drapes when he noticed the parchment wedged between the sill and the frame.

He slipped his fingers under the window and wiggled it up, cringing when it squeaked. As he stepped inside, sliding between the curtains, he snatched the paper off the sill and shut the window quietly. Sasuke flipped the latch into place.

If she wanted to get back in, she would have to face him, he thought arrogantly.

He turned to take in the expanse of her private room and suddenly felt intrusive standing in such an intimate setting without her. It had not changed much from his last visit, yet it may as well have been a foreign land given the length of time he had been away.

Her wardrobe occupied the same space, as did her bed, and it was the same with the little table to the right of it. He did, however, note the large stack of letters that had not been there before. He approached them slowly, eyes skimming the pages. He did not need to read them to know what they said. What had caught his eye, though, was the drawer she had left somewhat ajar and the jewel that, even in the low light, had gleamed with a brilliance he had never seen before. He reached a hand inside and pulled up an intricate gold necklace, meticulously fashioned with a multitude of sparkling green gems. He pulled the drawer out completely to see that there were many more pieces of jewelry just like it, all of varying craftsmanship and design, but each one just as valuable as the last.

* * *

Sweaty and exhausted, Sakura made her way back to her rooms. Though it would never be the same without him, she found a certain contentment and satiation during these training sessions. It offered her some comfort and peace of mind in his absence, most especially when she found that she could not even relieve herself in the same physical ways that he had.

She shoved those thoughts down as she approached the outer wall of her bedroom. She felt for the seam of her window sill, but found nothing. Her fingers slipped along the edge of the frame, searching for the piece of parchment. 

There was nothing.

Panic seized her and she cursed. How was she supposed to get back in without alerting her guards?

Just as she attempted to conjure an excuse they might believe, her window was shoved upwards and Sasuke stood before her, scowling.

“You should be more careful,” his voice had a subtle cheek to it, but his eyes narrowed at her, chastising.

“Around you?” She sneered. 

“What’s under your cloak?” He asked, ignoring her snide question. Sakura swallowed harshly, then proclaimed haughtily,

“You know, if you wish to see me undress you need only ask.”

“I doubt I would even need to do that,” he snapped, causing Sakura to smirk and straighten herself,

“As though you are not desperate to strip me of every piece of clothing right here with little more than a glance from me.”

“Hn,” he chuckled, but as he opened his mouth to speak, they heard the crunch of footsteps nearby. Without a word between them, they reached for each other and he yanked her inside. They fell to the floor as the window slammed shut. Hastily, he pulled Sakura behind her bed and they crouched there as one of the guards passed by her window. With their hands laced together tightly and their hearts racing to the same unsteady beat, they waited with restrained breaths as the footsteps slowly faded away. They exhaled together.

“You should be more careful,” Sasuke said, releasing her to stand. He offered her his hand, but she came to her feet on her own, defiantly.

“I know how not to get caught, Sasuke-kun,” she turned away from him, pulling at the buttons of her cloak until it fell to the floor. He saw the scabbard at her hip and seethed.

“I am not talking about getting caught. The guards do not patrol the forest,” he struggled to keep his voice level as he chastised her, “There is a war going on outside of this palace. You could have been taken, hurt, _killed_ even.”

Sakura untied the sash at her waist and the sword fell with a clatter.

“Then perhaps you should accompany me,” she turned to face him, pulling at the laces of her coat without batting a lash, “For my own safety,” his eyes flashed dangerously. She was pushing him close to an edge that even he was uncertain what would happen if he went over it, “I am not helpless, Sasuke-kun.”

“You are not a soldier, either,” he said sternly, his gaze remaining on the incredibly impassive expression on her face even as she undressed before him. 

“You are not my guard, you are not my father, and you have made it very clear that you are _not_ my lover,” she said emphatically, “Why should I listen to your words?” She left herself in only her silk slip, almost as if in invitation, “You have always sought to place one of us above the other, whether it is my status as heir to this empire or your aptitude as a warrior, why is that?”

He lowered his gaze shamefully and her heart ached then. Despite her tone, seeing him standing in the room they had inhabited for most of winter, the same room they had filled to the brim with cries of desperate passion, was a devastating vision and one that she found she had difficulty reconciling within herself. It was almost too much for her to bear. She took a step towards him, hands coming up across her chest; a protective stance.

“Tell me,” she whispered, probing eyes unabashed in their regard of him. She gave a small little shrug as she pushed the words out in a listless huff, “Tell me you still think of me.”

“Sakura,” he began, but she cut him short.

“Tell me I am not the only one laying awake at night.”

“Do not do this,” he pleaded, shaking his head.

“Tell me I am not the only one feeling this anguish!” She pressed him, her anger causing tears to gather at the corners of her eyes.

“Sakura,” he said fiercely, “Stop it.”

“Lie to me if you must,” she spat furiously, advancing on him, “But tell me I am not the only one who has suffered these past months.”

She peeled her thin, trembling fingers from their hold on her arms. He could see the marks left there from how tightly she had gripped them in her ire. Stepping closer to him, close enough that she was within a hair’s breadth, she reached out, fingers dancing in front of his chest, but not meeting. She seemed to be tracing an intricate map in the space between them of all the places she might touch him, the places she once had on many a nights. Sakura’s eyes grew hazy as a pleasant reminiscence overcame her. She smiled; a rare, intimate admission of happiness.

“I have been plagued by you. My mind races with the thoughts of your lips,” her cheeks flushed in the dim light, her lilting voice quieting, “I have dreamt of you every night. I awaken with a terrible ache between my legs and my heart calls for you, but you do not answer me.”

“Stop,” his eyes snapped to hers as she studied him astutely, “Please.”

“Do you remember our first kiss?” She refused to let him out from under the heat of her stare now, “Under the willow tree. I did not feel the cold that night for I had your warmth to keep me.”

How could he forget? Her lips were a phantom syndrome he was certain he was doomed to be tortured with until the end of his existence.

“I can still feel your lips, at times,” she pulled her hand back, placing her forefinger upon the prominent dip of her upper lip, “Here,” his gaze dropped as she followed the slope of her neck, “Here,” her hand crossed over her clavicle, “Here,” her fingers slipped lower, approaching the valley of her breasts that just peaked from the trim of her gown, “Here,” his eyes widened, “And - ”

Sasuke snatched her wrist before she could traverse further. He was well aware of where he had kissed her. He knew everything he’d done to her for he played it in his tormented mind more often than he ever wished to admit.

“Do you remember?” she questioned him fiercely.

“No,” he released Sakura’s hand before the touch of her bare skin could burn yet another imprint of her upon him.

“You do not remember the pleasure we gave to one another?” she had the cunning to look hurt, demeaned, before him, and he realized then that she was toying with him. That perilous wrath just moments ago had shifted into a vengeful passion, something that excited him more than it should have. 

“You must stop this,” he said firmly. Though his large frame appeared imposing, she did not back away.

“I am unable to,” she sighed and clutched her hands to her heart, “You are in my thoughts always. You have forced me to attend to myself at night and I fear I do not know my body quite so well as you do.”

An aspiration to display just how properly he knew where to touch her had come to life within him. The bed was only a few paces from them, the wall - equally as sturdy - was still behind him. He could push her against it so easily, feel her shudder in his arms as he slipped his fingers along her entrance.

His hands twitched at his sides.

Sakura stepped towards him again, looping her arms around his neck to twist her fingers through his messy hair. She was so close that, instinctively, his hands found her waist. He gripped her there, desperate to keep her in place, aching to pull her closer.

“Sakura,” he swore their mouths brushed when he spoke her name, but the movement was too subtle for him to be sure. She shook her head as she looked up at him.

“I can not stop these feelings, do not ask me to,” her bottom lip quivered as she looked at him through half-lidded eyes, “I could not bear it.”

“It is not right to feel these things,” he mumbled, yet still she remained tight in his hold.

“Then I fear for what it means to be right,” her hands lowered to his heart and he froze. He was certain she could feel its discordant beat and it terrified him, though Sasuke knew he had already given himself away by coming to her that night. He had not been able to help himself, the temptation proved too great. While it was not fair to take from her something she both could not give and something he was not meant to have in the first place, perhaps they were both too late. She cooed softly, “Tell me, Sasuke-kun. Tell me I am not alone in this.”

There was a moment of bereft silence, a moment where the world around them quieted in reverence of their sacred exchange. And then he spoke with a heavy whisper,

“It will pass.”

Mustering every ounce of his strength, he stepped away from her.

“What?” Her arms were still outstretched from where he had just been in her grasp.

“This is only temporary.”

“How can you say that?” Sakura clenched her fists and stared up at him. Her wide eyes were so open, so vulnerable, “After everything, how can you say such a thing?”

“It is the truth,” He insisted, keeping his voice soft in an attempt to placate her, “It must be.”

“Then your feelings have changed, have they?” She questioned with a glare.

“They will,” he narrowed his eyes, “With time.”

Sakura was stricken as she looked at him, unable to swallow the weight of his words. There was a raw pain in her eyes, betrayal etched across her undeniably beautiful face, and she clutched her hands over her heart as if she could keep the already broken pieces from falling into the abyss he had just opened beneath her. With a shaky breath, she drew herself up, straightening her form to look at him with a devastating chill.

“Leave,” she said coldly, turning her back to him. But Sasuke didn’t move. He was rooted to that spot in her bedroom, fixed on her, immobile as he attempted to stomach the harsh command she had just given. Once more, he found that he had managed to butcher every thought that entered his mind as it left his mouth, “I do not wish to subject myself to your torments further.”

He took a step toward her, reaching a hand out, the floor beneath him groaning in protest. He watched her tense at the sound, bracing herself against the possibility of his touch, and that was enough to thwart any hope of reconciliation within him. He lowered his hand. Sasuke had always been a man of few words, but now he found himself at a staggering loss. Even if he had the means, he knew no amount of letters nor jewels nor opulent gifts could ever begin to make this right.

But maybe a touch.

Maybe a kiss.

Maybe, if he went to her -

“I beg of you,” her voice trembled now, wrought with grief and longing, “Just leave me be.”

With heavy footsteps, he proceeded to the window. It squeaked as it opened and he climbed out.


	24. Chapter 24

It was well past sunrise when Sakura finally dressed herself, opting for a far more modest kimono as she had no intention of breaching her doors that day. She made her way to the sitting room and drew the curtains closed, not wishing to see the light. But even through the thick fabric of her drapes, the sun persisted to shine, almost as if to tell her that the world outside would still go on, mocking her with its vivacious exuberance.

She scoured the rows of her books, desperate for anything new, and finally settled on a journal she had only read once or twice before. It did not matter if she would not retain the words or find the material as engaging as she once did, simply having something to look at allowed her a fleeting respite from the bitterness that was slowly poisoning her heart. She had never known herself to be such a resentful, wretched, foolhardy soul, but now. . .

Well, Sakura felt ridiculous, thinking about how she acted, pining after him so desperately. She remembered that night she had used such filthy words to describe what she wished he would do to her. Even now her cheeks burned at the thought of her audacity. But she had seen the way he looked at her, like she was the most desirable woman to ever be placed in his path.

She had longed to see that look again. That look that told her there was no one else, would never be anyone else, that could enchant him as much as she did.

Last night he had not looked at her like that. But if not to be with her, why else would he have come to her rooms so late in the evening? Simply because he cared if she hurt herself with a sword? If not to incite the passion they shared all those nights ago, why had he come at all? 

She guessed it did not matter now. Despite her advancements, he had rejected her yet again.

So what else was she to do?

Sakura had no doubts in her mind that that excruciating yearning she felt for him was love, but is this what love did? She was a tangled web of burning desire and aching misery. She longed for the hours that they would spend at her table remarking on every subject that came to their minds. She longed for the night that he had told her the truth of his name, for the calamitous betrayal that was swiftly followed by her realization that she loved him despite his family and because of them. She longed for those nights in the forests, when he would look on her with pride in his onyx eyes as she swung a blade at him.

And then she longed for what came after.

Sakura slammed the book shut; it clearly had not helped stall her tempestuous mind. It was all his fault, she thought sourly. Just to picture him in her mind, caused the most uncomfortable coalescence of anger and sorrow and - _fear_. But what was she afraid of? Afraid of still losing him? Sakura scoffed at herself; he had made it quite plain for her.

She had already lost him.

* * *

Guilt. That was all he had felt after their last encounter. It was a shackle that dragged behind him with every day that passed. He could not even take pleasure in the time spent training his recruits, because there was nothing left in the gardens to distract him from his duties. It was going on a week now that he had not seen her emerge from her rooms. He found himself half tempted - more than half tempted - to ask her guards if she ever left that table by the window, because he knew that’s where she’d be.

But before he debased himself in such a way, Sasuke made a trip to the forest late at night. He thought even if she were angry with him, especially if she were angry with him, she would seek to defy him by continuing her late night routine, but he did not see her. So he went again the next night. And the next. And the one after that.

Each night he would go at a different hour, hoping to catch her in the act, but each night he would be disappointed.

What could she possibly be doing locked away in her rooms all day and night? Was she ill? Or was it entirely his fault? Sasuke knew in the pit of his gut that it was the latter. He had caused her unnecessary humiliation simply by denying her something they both wished for; twice. His stomach twisted in knots of shame and remorse.

He was just as culpable for his feelings and to deny them was not only an emotional pain, but it burned under his skin, set like poison in his veins. That, too, emboldened his guilt.

“Uzumaki-san!” A soldier came running towards him as he left the forest at dawn, “The Emperor needs you.”

Sasuke nodded and proceeded in that direction. He was in yesterday’s uniform and had not managed to sleep a wink, but he had no time to rectify that, so he simply smoothed the creases of his shirt down before entering the Emperor’s study.

“Sir,” Sasuke said, bowing low, “You wished to see me?”

“You have not checked in since last week,” Kizashi stood from his desk, “Your last report suggested your troops were nearing the end of their training,” he watched him curiously, “Has that changed?”

“No, sir,” Sasuke shook his head, forcing his gaze up to the Emperor’s. It was odd to look into this man’s eyes, as every moment he’d spent at Sakura’s side played in the back of his mind, “I am sorry for my negligence. It will not happen again.”

“It is quite all right, my boy,” The Emperor said with a smile, “They are ready for deployment, then?”

Sasuke froze, the word hanging above him in the air, strung up by wires so fragile that it threatened to crush him at any moment. It had been five months since he had begun their training, a generous amount of time to shape them into the soldiers that war demanded, but that had done nothing to lesson the shock of hearing that word come out of the Emperor’s mouth.

Sensing his hesitation, Kizashi spoke up,

“We must make haste, Uzumaki-san,” he rounded the edge of his desk, coming to stand before Sasuke. He placed a sturdy hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, “I have faith in you. I would not have chosen you for this mission otherwise. Right now, they believe our resources to be depleted. It is the perfect time to strike.”

“Of course,” Sasuke nodded, once again finding himself unnerved by Kizashi’s apparent trust in him. The Emperor had seen something in him that he himself was not even aware of. Perhaps it was the same thing that Sakura saw. Quickly, he forced that thought back, there was no room for hesitation in a time of war. So he did not allow himself a moment more to think before he said, “They are ready.”

“Wonderful,” the Emperor patted him on the back and returned to his desk, “Hatake-san is making the preparations.”

“The preparations?” Sasuke asked.

“We’ve been planning your departure for weeks now,” Kizashi beamed, “What with the promise your pupils showed. Hatake-san will accompany you and the recruits to the front to ensure your safety.”

“Who will remain here?” Sasuke felt his heart drop slowly with each word that left the Emperor’s mouth.

“We have many capable guards now, thanks to you,” a bemused look came over his face, “You need not worry for us any longer. Not while you are on your way to glory.”

“When do we leave?”

“In three days time,” there was a gleam of pride in his eyes as he said this, but Sasuke could take no pleasure in it.

“Three days?”

“I trust that is ample enough to pack your belongings and prepare for departure?”

“Yes, sir,” Sasuke bowed, “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“You have earned it,” Kizashi affirmed, “I know you will do us proud.”

Sasuke could not get out of that room fast enough, stumbling into the bright light of the day. He was unsure how long he had been conversing with the Emperor, but he could see his troops just beyond the gardens now, already training. He turned before they could spot him. He had to tell Sakura. He had to let her know that he was leaving, that it wasn’t her fault, that he - 

He stopped mid-stride, just a few yards from her rooms. Perhaps it was best not to disturb her; she had been so cross with him. He doubted very much that she would wish to see him.

But he could not just leave her without a word. She should know, she had every right to know that when he left her it would not be by his choice.

At least, not entirely. That shackle turned into a mantle of guilt to bear on his shoulders; he _had_ wished to go to war. He had been wishing it since the day Naruto had left without him. And yet, three moons from his departure, he was about to lose her, permanently this time. Who was to say he would return from war? And who was to know what would greet him if he did?

Sasuke felt his skin prickle with fear and apprehension.

Perhaps today was not the best day.

But tomorrow he would tell her.

As soon as he woke, he would tell her.

* * *

“Sakura-chan,” Hinata poked her head around the doors to Sakura’s sitting room and saw her seated at the table by the window, a book held limply in her hands.

“Hinata-chan,” she offered a small smile, “How are you this day?”

“Worried,” her brows furrowed, approaching Sakura slowly, “For you. Your mother has been entertaining the girls in her sitting room for days now, but you have yet to join us. She has sent for you many times.”

“Yes, well,” Sakura sighed, “Forgive me. I have felt unwell for some time.”

“Have you been to the infirmary?” Concern was written all over Hinata’s face.

Sakura hesitated.

“It is not like that,” she said slowly, “Forgive me. I have been silly. Let me put on a coat and I will join you shortly.”

“A-Are you sure?” Hinata twisted her fingers together, “You should not feel obligated, if you are unwell.”

“No, I am fine,” Sakura smiled to reassure her, “I will not be long.”

“Very well,” Hinata smiled and left her to freshen up. Sakura rose from her table, setting her book down and proceeded to her bedroom. At once, she threw open the curtains, the light of the sun shining down on her in awe, as if to say it had missed sharing its warmth with her. She basked in it for a moment, before moving to her wardrobe to pick out a formal coat. Her hands glided over the materials until she found the emerald green silk that Hibiki had gifted her not long ago; it was her newest coat and, according to him, at the forefront of fashion across the seas.

She slipped it on and began tying the front, cinching it at her waist tightly. Sakura then dipped her fingers into the drawer beside her bed and pulled out Hibiki’s latest gift, the jeweled necklace. She fastened it around her neck and adjusted it to rest over her collarbone with a satisfied smile. 

She was done sulking, she decided, taking up her wagasa. She walked through her sitting room and out her front doors, into the brilliant sun.

* * *

The week of isolation in her room had done wonders. She suddenly found herself to be starved for social interaction and thus readily engaging in the activity present in her mother’s common area. It was a pleasant change from the constant ache of missing Sasuke, but she chastised herself for sparing him a thought.

“Go on,” Karin was near tears as she tapped Ino’s shoulder, “Tell them what happened.”

Ino bristled, flushing red, but the investigative stares fixed on her told her she would not get out of this so easy.

“I just asked him,” Ino huffed and held her head high, “I was merely wondering if he would be interested in going for a walk around the gardens in the evening.”

“And then?” Karin prompted, holding her sides from laughing so hard.

“And then,” Ino said sharply, glaring at Karin, “I tripped over my skirt and went tumbling into his arms. It was quite romantic actually.”

“That’s not what happened,” Karin stopped laughing abruptly, “You missed him by a hundred yards.”

“Well he almost caught me!” Ino said brusquely, desperately clinging to her pride, “He would have if he had not been so distracted by my beauty.”

“I am certain that is what distracted him,” Tenten said through pursed lips, “Not the fact that you can not even walk properly in a dress.”

Sakura could not keep herself from giggling at that, earning her a sharp look  
“Oh, Ino, do not feel so bad,” Sakura smirked, “You must have made quite the impression on the poor man.”

Ino stuck her tongue out, but it was all in good fun. Sakura still felt guilty for snapping at her that day, but it appeared all was well between them now. She felt herself grow calm at the thought. All was becoming right in her world once more, she simply needed to resume a normal routine, one that did not rely on her expectations of seeing Sasuke at nightfall. 

“Let me tell you,” Mebuki piped up, “I have embarrassed myself a fair amount of times in front of my husband and I assure you he only loves me all the more for it.”

Sakura beamed at her mother; it made her happy to hear her talk like that about her father. Mebuki returned her smile; she was grateful to see her daughter so joyful in the midst of such a dark time. She had always worried about Sakura, ever since Seiichi’s death. For some time, there had been the comfort of knowing that Seiichi would be there to take care of Sakura long after Mebuki and Kizashi had passed.

Until the day that he wasn’t and the Empire found itself without its first in line for the throne. Two parents found themselves without their first born. And a sister found herself without a brother she had not even known.

Mebuki and Kizashi did not have the luxury as rulers to spoil their children with endless affection and attentions. And it was one of Mebuki’s greatest regrets, one that she would be buried with. But she knew, with the years, that Sakura had come to understand their duties to their nation and Mebuki could only hope that that had helped to assuage her loneliness. Sakura had always given the impression that it had, but this year, since her birthday, something had changed. Sakura was not her usual spirited self, but she did not know what could have caused such a despondency to take residence within her.

Mebuki shucked the thought; her daughter was here, with her, and smiling. That was all that mattered.

* * *

For the first time in a while, Sasuke felt a weariness not just in his bones but in his very being and it gave him hope that he might sleep through the night for once. He had already felt drained from his conversation with the Emperor that morning, so compounded with the rigorous training of the day, he found himself to be equally emotionally and physically exhausted.

Freshly changed, he flopped onto his cot and stretched his arms up. Instinctively, his fingers slipped into his pillowcase to grasp the paper there. It gave him an odd comfort that night, like she was just within his reach; a comfort strong enough that he fell asleep like that, clutching the parchment tightly.

Tomorrow, he would tell her.

* * *

“Where did you get this?” Mebuki remarked as Sakura pulled away from their hug. She had ventured to her mother’s rooms first thing after waking, before the rest of the courtiers arrived.  
“This?” Sakura touched the necklace at her throat. It was the same emerald and gold jewelry she had worn the previous day. She gaped for a moment as she tried to get Hibiki’s name out, “Father got it for me. On one of his trips, years ago.”

“Oh, it’s very beautiful,” her mother smiled, “It matches your eyes.”

“Thank you,” Sakura blushed and took a seat beside her mother’s throne.

“I had a thought,” Mebuki ruminated, “Perhaps when things are more stable, maybe even in a few months, we could return to the winter palace.”

“Really?” Sakura’s eyes lit up and she smiled. They had not been back there for many years, but she had always loved it. Before the war had claimed more and more of their land, the whole court would migrate there for the winter, to avoid the snow and bitter cold.

“Yes, I have mentioned it to your father and he is optimistic that with Gaara’s troops we can now turn the tide of this war,” as Mebuki spoke the words aloud, her shoulders slackened, a weight that had been present for too long now finally beginning to lift.

“Mother, that is,” Sakura was speechless, she could only laugh in disbelief and smile in hope.

“I know. It is something we can look forward to now,” Mebuki patted her daughter’s hand affectionately as they shared that moment of happiness.

* * *

He was too busy today, he thought as he rushed to meet Kakashi in the Emperor’s study. Far too busy to have such a delicate conversation with her today. He forced himself to listen to Kakashi as he outlined their plan of travel, the recruits that he would be going with, and the separate routes the caravans of supplies would take to ensure an ambush would not leave the front defenseless. 

Tomorrow, he told himself, tomorrow he would tell her. Because tomorrow would be his last day at the palace, and then she would be unable to stop him, unable to persuade him to stay with her, to desert his responsibilities in favor of a life with her.

Well, now that was just wishful thinking.

“We will meet you brother at the front, disperse the rations, and then you will lead the troops on your first mission,” Kakashi finished.

“Yes, sir,” Sasuke nodded, his heart thumping erratically in his chest. He felt an unnatural thrill at the anticipation of war. This was all coming to a head so fast, everything he had spent most of his life training for now coming to fruition. It was a bittersweet notion to know that every bit of his hard work was paying off, but that it was in conjunction with his departure from the woman that he -

So, yes, today he was too busy. But tomorrow he would tell her and that would be the end of it.

* * *

When Sakura had been escorted back to her rooms, one of the guards at her doors handed her a letter. She took it with a thin smile and waited until she was inside to open it. The scrawl was familiar to her, Hibiki’s, and said only:

_I was glad to see you out of your rooms today. Perhaps we can spend some time together soon._

Sakura folded the paper carefully and set it on her bedside table when she entered her bedroom. She was not ready for that. It was one thing for her to put on a happy face and venture into the world outside, but another entirely to do so while playing pretend with a man she had no desire to even attempt to fall for. In her mind, in her heart, in her soul, she knew that Sasuke could never be replaced.

It would be foolish of her to even try.

* * *

Morning came.

And then morning went.

Then it was the afternoon and Sasuke still had not moved from his bed in the barracks. His open pack sat beside him, housing only a spare uniform thus far. He reached inside his pillowcase and pulled out the parchment that had rested there for many months now. He cradled it in his hands, turning it carefully between his fingers. Before he could tempt himself to read it, he stuffed it in his pack and covered it with the provisions provided to each soldier for the trip.

How could he tell her? He thought.

He owed it to her, he knew that, but he was afraid, fearful in a way that he was so unaccustomed to. He knew this would only hurt her, and after everything, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

But that guilt - that guilt that had festered in his stomach since their last meeting, had spread throughout his body, rotting away in his conscience. He _had_ to tell her. His whole body shifted as he thought, realized, believed that this might be the last time he would ever see her.

Should he not tell her the truth then? About him? About them? 

Should he not tell her that, despite their misfortune, she would be with him always? That he would carry her with him across any battlefield, a beacon to light his way through the dark? Through the dismal expanse that stretched before him? Through a life without her.

Sasuke looked to the window, it was night already. So it was now or never. He could say goodbye tonight, make one last memory with her to hold onto for the rest of his life, and then leave without a regret in the morning, knowing he had made his peace.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, but with a burgeoning determination. Any other option was unthinkable.

* * *

Sakura sat on her bed as she deftly untied her shoes and kicked them off carelessly. She was just about to flop back on her bed when a soft tap came from her window. She looked over and her heart started; Sasuke stood just on the other side, a sullen expression on his face. She rushed to the window and lifted it gently.

“What ar - ,”

Sasuke grabbed hold of the window, supporting it above them, and leaned forward to claim her lips with his. Her mind told her to push him off, to berate him for his actions, to send him far away from her, but her heart, the fragile pieces that had remained fractured for so long, began to beat a familiar rhythm inside her chest. Her fingers twitched, hands raising to touch him, but he pulled back. Dazed, she blinked rapidly.

“Why did you do that?” There was a tremor in her breathless voice as she looked up at him, green eyes searching in the black ocean of his. They held so many secrets, a tangled enigma that she had only ever hoped to understand. Sasuke seemed to think for a moment, contemplating his answer rather than the act of kissing her; of that he had seemed most certain.

“May I come in?” He had to have her permission, had to know that it was okay, that she wanted him to stand before her.

“I think it odd that you would need to ask such a thing,” Sakura mused, stepping aside, “But yes, you may.”

He slipped into the room and Sakura quickly took hold of the window to lower it down soundlessly.

“Sasuke-kun, you can not continue to do this,” she faced him cautiously, keeping a fair distance between them, “I have told you before, I can not have half of you. I can not have my heart beaten and battered and stitched back together and broken again,” there was no fiery spit to her words, only a gloomy despondence that troubled him. Where was her spirit? “I can not do this again. My heart can not take it.”

Sasuke fought to keep his eyes locked with hers, fought to summon every bit of strength he possessed, fought against himself, his very nature, just to open his mouth to speak to her. And when he did, his words came in a defeated mutter,

“What good is it to tell you that I love you?” Sakura’s heart skipped and her breath halted in her throat, “What good is it to tell you that I can not stop thinking of you?” His fists clenched and a deep, almost bitter rubble consumed his tone, “That I can still taste you on my tongue or imagine you against me at night?” and then his voice turned fierce as he asked her, “What good is it to tell you that I desire you so completely?” Sakura was mesmerized, completely flustered by his admission, “You know what I feel for you. You know that you possess me. What good is it to dwell on these things knowing that we can never have them?”

Sakura was rendered silent for longer than he liked. He waited in restless anticipation of her response, but he began to lose hope when she looked away from him, gaze cast to the floor.

“I did not know,” she whispered, shaking her head, “You had not come to me in so long, I - I feared your affection had gone elsewhere,” he stepped forward, attempting to close the distance between them, but, as though repelled, she stepped back. Resolution set within her; she needed to be heard, “To someone better suited.”

“Who?”

“Anyone,” she laughed on an exhale, flippant as she spoke, “Any other woman.”

“There is no other,” he said softly. Every nerve in his body felt as though it had been set on fire, and the only relief would be to reach for her, to hold her against him, “There never will be,” but he refrained, for her. Sakura peered up at him and, as he looked down at her, he saw the depth of their shared devotion exposed between them. Like a tensile string knotted around both their hearts, it had led them this far, but the rest, they would have to do themselves, “It is as you said, I have been ruined by you.”

Sakura’s lip quivered and she bit into it to quell the shiver that ran through her at his words. She had never heard him speak so candidly before. For so long he had remained an agonizingly labyrinthine puzzle, yet here he was, offering her a glimpse into the maze of his mind, and she found herself at every corner.

“Sasuke-kun, why,” Sakura cursed herself for what she was about to ask; she did not want to ruin so perfect a moment, did not want to burst this perfect bubble that they now found themselves in, “Why now? Why tonight? What do you want from me?”

Sasuke grit his teeth; it was now or never. He took her in, savoring how she looked at him with such hopeful adoration, tentative to open her heart to him again, but allowing him to glimpse the love that lay there should she choose to.

She would give him everything, he need only ask.

But all of that would disappear, vanish into nothingness the moment he told her the truth.

“Sasuke-kun?”

He stepped toward her again and this time she did not move away, only lifted her head higher to maintain that contact. He tried to burn that look into his memory, that look of promise and devotion and unyielding love, because it would be gone the second he told her why he came. He thought of the night he told her of his lineage and imagined it would be much like that, a look of betrayal as though he had been the one holding the knife to her throat.

But it was now or it was never.

“I can not deny this any longer,” he exhaled sharply through his nostrils, “I am sorry I have denied it for so long.”

“What do you think will happen if you give in?” She asked, “What are you so afraid of?”

Everything, he wanted to answer her. He was afraid of hurting her irreparably, of being hurt in a way that could never be repaired, of giving himself wholly to another person, of allowing that person to hold some manner of control over him.

But perhaps most of all, he was afraid of being forgotten, by her.

“I am afraid that we can never go back,” he whispered.

“You can not reverse love,” she said with a wry smile and it at once warmed him to see such a sight again, “Like time, it can only evolve.”

“Sakura,” he began, but she held her hand up.

“Please, do not apologize,” she eyed him speculatively, “I do not wish to hear you apologize for your feelings.”

“No,” he protested, “Only for the pain I have caused you.”

“I am not a saint, Sasuke-kun,” she approached him then, standing close enough that he could see the outline of the jewelry around her neck in the dark light, “I have forced your hand in these things as well.”

“Then we are both guilty,” he admitted with a smirk.

“Of being in love?”

There was a quiet moment, a fork diverging their paths, where everything hinged on his response. Sakura held her breath.

“Yes.”

Her heart swelled at his concession and she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. She angled her head to catch his lips against hers. Without any further encouragement, Sasuke took hold of her waist, pulling her against him. He had not realized how starved he had been these past five months, until he felt the curve of her bottom lip beneath his tongue and the acquainted feeling of her fingers on the nape of his neck and the subtle inflation of her waist as she gasped for breath when they pulled away.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she let her hand fall to cup his cheek, “I have missed you terribly.”

“If you wish,” his throat bobbed as anticipation and arousal mingled in his abdomen.

“I do,” she said with a mischievous smile, “I command it.”

Sasuke smirked for just a second, before realization set in once more. If he stayed -

"I am afraid that I will not be able to stop myself,” he said, incapable of keeping the dark timbre of lust from creeping into his tone.

“From doing what?” She pressed, pushing him to admit that he wanted this just as badly as she did; she had to know. If he did not, then she would speak no more on the matter.

“Ravaging you,” he said, quite bluntly. Sakura swallowed thickly, her hand dropping to the buttons of his shirt.

“Then do not stop.”

He kissed her again, this time moving his fingers to the laces of her coat where he began to impatiently pull at them. In turn, Sakura tugged at his shirt, popping a few of the buttons in the process. They broke apart only so that they could shuck off the first layer of clothing, then the second, and the third, and every cursed layer of her regal dress, until they stood bare before each other. They took a shared breath as they found their memories to have failed them in each others’ absences.

Stepping closer, Sasuke brought his hand to the shell of her ear, sliding it up until he reached the jewels in her hair. He gave pause, addressing her with a sincere stare,

“You looked beautiful on your birthday,” he plucked at the first adorned pin and a lock of her hair came spiraling down, “As you always do,” she felt him pull free another section and her stomach twisted with guilt.

“I did not mean to be cruel,” she said solemnly. Sasuke removed the last pin and ran his fingers through the length of her rosy tresses. His lips met hers slowly, a languid kiss of forgiveness and entreatment, in turn. When he pulled away, she held her hand out to take the pins from him. He dropped them in her open palm, allowing his fingers to skim along her slight wrist; he had missed the touch of her skin.

“Was that a gift?”

Sakura’s brows knitted, confusion clouding her expression. He reached up to touch the necklace at her throat.

“Oh,” she hurried to unclasp it from around her neck, but he stopped her.

“It suits you,” he murmured, pensive as he regarded its intricacies.

“It was a gift from a nobleman,” she said, morose as her hands fell to her sides.

“A suitor?” To his credit, Sasuke had kept any accusatory tone from his words. Nonetheless, Sakura nodded, ashamed.

“I suppose,” she sighed, then said, almost as if to reassure herself as well as him, “But it is only a necklace with pretty gems. It holds no purpose other than to shine in the light so that I might feel beautiful, even if just for a moment.”

Sasuke unhooked the delicate fastener and dropped the piece of jewelry to the floor. He ran the back of his fingers over her now bare neck and dipped his head to press soft kisses against her shoulder. She took in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes at the feeling.

“If I am at fault for your doubt of that, I will spend the rest of this evening proving you wrong,” he promised. Sakura dropped the pins with a clatter and slid her fingers up his arms, gripping his biceps to steady herself.

“Just this evening?” Though it was clear from the humor in her voice that she was only teasing him, Sasuke knew that that was all he could give her. Just this evening. He bit at her neck and sucked at the tender skin there, drawing her attention back to the present. She moaned and dug her nails into his flesh. His cock quivered in response, swelling at her thigh.

Sasuke pulled away and grabbed her hand, leading her over to the bed. He urged her back until she was laying flat against her sheets, adoring gaze turned up to look at him. The edges of his mouth pulled into a telling smirk as he slowly came to kneel on the floor.

Grabbing hold of her ankles, he pulled her towards him, causing a delightful, but subdued shriek from Sakura. Her cunt clenched invitingly in front of him, but he restrained himself from partaking in her just yet. Gradually, he slid his fingers up her trembling legs, where he took a strict hold of her thighs to keep her steady. Sakura whimpered as she felt his lips press against her hipbone, her stomach a tangled knot of anxious expectation. He moved his mouth to her inner thigh, nipping it sharply. She squeaked in surprise, twisting her hands in the sheets beneath her.

“Sasuke-kun, plea - ,”

His tongue flicked over her clit, ripping a seraphic moan from her lips. Her hips bucked under his hands, but he held her tight, torturing her with broad, steady strokes along her entrance. Although, as he felt her twitch and tremble in his hands and his cock throb in response to every sound she emitted, he was unsure who was being tortured more. Sakura released her sheets to run her fingers through his hair, an act she did not realized she had missed so terribly. She encouraged him closer, a silent plea to indulge in her.

So he did.

One of his hands left Sakura’s hip to slide a finger inside of her. He shuddered as he felt her silken walls contract, trying to draw him deeper. He closed his mouth around her clit and sucked deeply, introducing a second finger to her weeping passage.

She bit her lip, but could not keep the steady stream of moans in her throat. His name was a reverential chant on her tongue, rising in pitch as he worked her to the peak of arousal. He curled his fingers to pet at that spot on her upper walls and she spasmed on the bed, nearly coming apart then and there. He began to pressure her clit with swifter strokes. It was not a gentle coaxing to completion, no, it was a brutal yank through a wave of pleasure that continued to roll over her long after she cried her release.

It was not until the quiver of her limbs nearly ceased that he pulled his fingers out and came to his feet. Bleary eyed and dazed, Sakura looked up at him with a soft smile, extending a hand for him to join her. He accepted and climbed onto the bed, pulling her against him.

“Do not stop,” she whispered, breathless.

“But I have already,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“No,” she shook her head against his chest and reached her hand out to grasp the base of his hardened shaft. She stroked it slowly, earning a low groan from him, “I want to feel everything.”

“Sakura,” he hissed as she squeezed his tip, “Are you not satisfied with this?”

She stilled her hand and looked up at him.

“Are you?”

Of course not, he wanted to say. He would never be satisfied, because he was a greedy, gluttonous man who knew only how to take from her. She swung her leg over his hip and pushed herself up, brushing her slick opening against his rigid length. He cursed and his hands flew to her hips to still them. At once, a desperate, terrifying emptiness overcame her and she knew the only way to relieve it was to feel his thick cock sinking into her, to feel the intrusive stretch of his width, to come undone at his hands.

She had never felt such a natural, baser need in her life.

Sasuke screwed his eyes shut and fought the feverish urge to enter her. He had felt her around his fingers so many times before, had felt her clench in release, but the thought of her sweet cunt squeezing him like that was almost too much.

“I want you, Sasuke-kun,” she placed her hand tenderly on his cheek, enticing him to open his eyes. What greeted him was the sight of her sparkling jade orbs glistening with the love she held for him. Her luscious pink hair framed her lithe form, cascading over her supple breasts down to her waist. She smiled at him warmly, cheeks reddened by the pleasure he’d just bestowed on her, “Only you,” she implored, “I would rather wear the shame of our union for the rest of my days, than share this moment with anyone else,” Sasuke swallowed thickly, watching her intently, “I know what I want, Sasuke-kun, more than I have ever known anything else. I only want you,” she leaned forward to place a chaste kiss against his lips, but it caused her warm cunt to graze his cock again, “I only want to love you, in every way possible.”

He could feel the last piece of his resolve cracking and falling away. He thought he knew the difference between right and wrong but suddenly the definitions had changed. The only thing right in his life, the only piece of happiness he’d ever had, was sitting in front of him, asking her to join him in this moment of bliss. He flipped them over and, instinctively, she secured her legs at his waist. Her head rested near the side of the bed, causing her hair to tumble off the edge. She could see the conflict in his eyes, could feel the trepidation in his body as he held himself above her. She cupped his face and kissed him gently, hoping to assure him that they were making the right decision. For once they would act not for anyone else, but just for themselves.

Sasuke regarded her with an unchecked lust that he could see reflected in her own gaze. She was, had been, driving him to near insanity simply by loving him and he knew that she still would, for the rest of his life, especially after tonight.

Her words had rung true with him; it was unthinkable to imagine doing this with anyone else. If that was shameful, then so be it, he thought defiantly; there could not be a more stunning sight than what lay before him in that moment. If this was the last memory he would have of her, then he believe himself to be more fortunate than the wealthiest of men. He would hold onto this moment on every frigid night, during every lonesome trek, and in the last breaths taken from his dying lips.

Sasuke reached between them to stroke at her soaked heat and his fingers delved into her passage, stretching her walls gently, knowing that the girth of his member would surely be painful for her at first.

Sakura writhed and mewled, her hands twisting the sheets beneath her in tight fists. Her eyes met his, entreating him quietly, so he pulled his hand back to grip his length. It throbbed persistently as he guided it to her entrance and she gasped as she felt the blunt head prodding her opening.

“We can not go back after this,” his voice was strained, every bit of his self control centered on keeping himself from driving into her right then.

“There is nothing to go back to,” she moved her fingers up his torso and around his back, “My love is only for you, Sasuke-kun, I can not give that to anyone else.”

He kissed her fervently, sealing her words between their lips, and pushed into her. He felt her tense at the intrusion, digging her nails into his back roughly, and she gave a pained cry against his mouth. He stilled, but damned if it didn’t take every ounce of willpower he had to do so. Her cunt convulsed around him as it struggled to accommodate his size and his hands shook with the effort it took to keep himself from thrusting into her tight warmth. He broke the kiss and saw her eyes glistening, so he tried to pull out, but she stopped him, lifting her hips, allowing him to slide an inch or two further.

Sasuke cursed and squeezed his eyes shut. His fingers gripped the sheets so roughly that he feared he might tear them; he wanted to push forward so badly. The way she squeezed him and coated him with her arousal even as they lay still was bringing him so dangerously close to completion.

“Move,” she begged him, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Sakura, are you sure?” The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain than he already had, but she nodded her head in affirmation. She wanted this, needed this, because it was the one piece of her that she could choose what to do with. It was the one piece of her being, of her life, that she had control over, and she would not let it be sold or bartered or taken from her. This was the part of herself that she wished to share with Sasuke, forever.

“Please,” she shook against him.

Sasuke grit his teeth and thrust forward, the rest of his cock sinking in to fill her to the brim. Sakura cried out, back bowing off the bed. His entire frame was shaking now, restraint cracking at every seam.

“Again,” she urged him. Tentatively, he pulled back, feeling the way she gripped him like a vice, as though beseeching him not to go. Then he shoved forward and his tortured groan was drowned out by her pleasured sob. Their eyes met in the darkened room and Sasuke held their gaze as he took her by the waist and gently pushed her into the mattress. He sat back on his heels, shifting the angle of his reach, sliding against that spot on her upper walls.

Sakura keened, fisting the sheets as he stared down at her with pure carnal devotion. He felt so large within her, but that burning pain was slowly turning into something else, something -

Sasuke pulled almost completely out. Then, with a quick, powerful thrust, he seated himself fully within her. She tossed her head back, her mind whited out by the overpowering feeling of their union.

“Again,” she pleaded, and that was all Sasuke needed to hear. He raised his hips, keeping his hold at her waist to begin fucking her. She almost wept as he struck her cervix; she had never felt, could never imagine, such a perfect pleasure, “Sasuke-kun,” his name fell broken from her parted lips, “I want this with you - always.”

As he found his rhythm, he could not bring himself to utter his agreement; it would make it too real. He wanted it to be real, wished for it, but he knew what awaited him come morning. Yet, here he knelt, thrusting into her, watching her moan and tremble and break for him as he lost himself in all that she was.

He quickened his pace, the sound of their skin slapping together pervading the room. Her breasts bounced tantalizingly before him with every thrust, her fingers tightened in the sheets with every stroke of that spot inside her, her eyes gleamed salaciously as they looked at him; an insatiable pleasure laid within there, ready to devour him.

“Fuck,” he growled and abruptly pulled out. Sakura gave a sharp whine and sat up quickly. He began stroking himself rapidly, desperately trying to finish. She saw the torment of his expression and understood, brushing his fingers aside; she knew how to take care of him. She gripped him tightly, giving a few maneuvered pumps and he came with a broken groan into her hand. She thought, forlornly, that she would like to feel him come inside of her one day. Absently, she wiped her hand on the sheets beneath her, then leaned forward to kiss him. Sasuke snaked an arm around her waist, tongue slipping between her lips. She parted to let him in with a soft moan.

He brought a hand up to her breast, kneading the pliant flesh there and thumbing her nipple in lazy circles until she broke away with a whimper. Her sex was sore, aching in a way that she knew she would feel for days to come, but her desire had not yet abated. She would wager it never would when it came to Sasuke. As she looked to him, she saw that he regarded her with a puzzling expression on his face. He appeared almost vulnerable to her, like an animal with its throat bared to a predator. Sasuke bent his head to rest his forehead against hers and their labored breaths were shared as he whispered,

“I love you.”

Her eyes lit up with an unconcealed joy that she had never felt before. Silently, Sasuke berated himself for not telling her earlier, he could have seen that look on her face sooner, but he knew she deserved to hear those words at least once.

She laced their fingers together and smiled, a real, genuine smile.

“I love you, too,” then, she giggled and said, “Do you see what we could have been doing all this time?”

Sasuke chuckled and trailed kisses down her neck. They were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, but neither seemed to mind.

“If we had done this any sooner, I would never have let us see the light of day again.”

“What makes you think I would ever wish to leave my rooms again now?” She huffed.

“You would miss the sun too much,” he retorted and Sakura laughed.

“I suppose you are right,” she leaned forward, resting her head against his chest, “But I will admit that your absence had me longing for winter to come again.”

“Hn,” he stroked her hair, twisting his fingers in the silky strands. She peered up at him, studying the far away look in his eyes. Something was troubling him, she could see that much.

“Sasuke-kun,” she drew his attention back and caught his lips in a passionate kiss. As she moved her mouth over his, she raked a hand softly down his chest, slowing when she reached his abdomen.

“If you continue to do that, I will take you again,” he uttered with a sinister smirk against her lips. A cheshire grin spread over her mouth and she situated herself in his lap. She felt an unusual soreness in her legs as she extended them out, but it was nothing compared to the ache that had settled once more in the pit of her core. Her fingers continued to dance over his skin, tracing his muscles, stoking a fire that was quickly spreading through him. Sasuke dropped a hand between her legs, rubbing along her still drenched slit, and in that moment, he was consumed.

He lifted her hips and lowered her onto his still hardening cock. She winced as she slid down, her entrance still raw, walls still tender from before, but she relished the feel of him within her again. He moved steadily at first, allowing her time to acclimate to him again as he swelled inside of her.

But as passion overcame her, she found herself moving in tandem. Her hips seemed to proceed of their own accord, rising and falling in a pattern she had not realized she knew. She buried her neck in his shoulder as he held her tightly to him, whispering harsh prayers and sweet curses against his skin.

Though, it was not long before he shifted their positions, lowering her onto her back once more so that he could take control. He wanted to feel her come apart around him, as he had imagined so many times before. After a particularly sharp thrust, Sakura could feel her pleasure building up to a peak, clenching around his member in desperation.

“Harder,” she gasped, chasing that dizzying satisfaction that she could feel was so close now. Sasuke’s hips slammed against hers as he quickened his pace, but still she begged, “Harder, please!”

He grunted, gripping her backside to angle her hips higher. The repetitive smack of their skin against each other filled the room once more.

“Kami, Sasuke-kun, harder!” She cried and he ripped himself out of her with a growl. Before she could protest, he flipped her onto her stomach and pulled her up by the waist so she that she was kneeling in front of him. Sakura barely had time to grasp a pillow for stability before he was sliding back into her in a single fluid thrust.

Sakura sobbed, a shattering, desperate moan, as he stretched her again, the prominent head of his cock angling inside of her to rub at that sweet spot his fingers had always managed to find. Faintly, she registered the feel of his hands as they spread over her hips before he pulled back and snapped forward. She whined, the breath almost knocked out of her. She thought it had felt immeasurable before, but in this position - she could have wept from how full she felt.

Sasuke almost came right there. The vision from his dreams was laying before him and she looked infinitely more radiant than he could ever have imagined. It inspired in him an ambition to explore their pleasure in every position they could accomplish.

He put one hand on her shoulder, the other at her waist, as he began an uncontrolled and roughened pace. Her mind went blank, every thought that leaked into her brain was pushed out with every movement from behind her. She tried to form words, something to indicate to him what she was feeling, but Kami help her, she could only cry incoherently as he fucked into her with complete abandon and she came spasming around his cock.

* * *

They spent much of the evening like that, indulging in each other over and over again. Sweat soaked and deliciously sore, they found themselves on the floor, against her wall, pinned to the bookcase well into the hours of the night. They shared a ruthless desire to follow each other into this depthless abandon. Frankly, Sakura thought as she gripped the cool mantle of her fireplace and felt Sasuke’s hand encasing her delicate throat, while the bruising force of his thrusts compelled a string of curses from her lips - well, truthfully, she could not remember what she had been thinking.

It was near dawn when, finally, their legs gave out and it was an effort simply to crawl beneath her sheets. She curled against his chest, held within his arms, more content than she had ever found herself to be in her short life. She did not know what the future held, she did not even know what the morning would bring, but she felt comfort in knowing that Sasuke would be there and that she now had his love to keep her.

Sakura could feel the beckon of sleep and knew the sunrise was not far off, but before she succumbed, she had to tell him,

“You have my heart, Sasuke-kun,” she closed her eyes, listening to the beat in his chest, “It can never belong to another.”

Sasuke was silent, contemplative long enough that if she were not so tired, it might have caused her some worry.

“I can offer you nothing,” he said solemnly. 

“Not even your heart?” She asked with a weary giggle.

“Would that be enough?” He suspected he knew the answer, but he needed to hear her say it.

“Of course,” she tried to sound admonishing, “Over everything, I will always choose you, Sasuke-kun.”

The gravity of her words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was _choosing_ him. Before Sasuke was old enough to appreciate the gravity of such an action, Itachi had chosen him over his own life. Now, Sasuke carried that bitter fact with him each day. Just as he would have to carry the weight of his betrayal to her, too.

He peered down at Sakura, fatigue slowly claiming her, and watched her breath come in deep, steady intakes. Perhaps she still did not know the enormity of what she desired. Or maybe it was that she loved him too much to care. Either way, he felt a new layer of guilt being laid upon him; guilt for loving her. Sasuke pulled her closer into his side, tucking her head under his chin.

In his eyes, he had failed as her guard. He had failed to protect her from the threat that he himself posed. And because of that, he felt that he had even failed at loving her.

So maybe it was good that he was leaving in the morning. Maybe it was good that she would be rid of him. Maybe she could finally move on with her life, become the heir that he knew she could be and the person that she wanted to be.

Sakura would never be able to do that if he remained here.

Just like he, in turn, would never be able to redeem himself in his family’s memory if he spent the rest of his days as a palace guard.

Sasuke pressed his lips to her forehead, leaving them there for as long as it took him to memorize the feel of kissing her skin. 

The sooner he was gone, the better off she would be.

He tried to commit the warmth radiating from her skin to his mind.

And as a general in this war, perhaps he could even do some good.

She seemed so peaceful now, sleeping in his arms.

That was how he wished to remember her. He did not want to think about what the morning would bring for her: the realization of his deception, the pain of his departure, the hopelessness of having her love torn away.

No. He wanted to remember this. This moment in which she believed that for once in her life, everything was right with the world.

Sasuke held her tighter.

No matter how he looked at it, he knew she would be better off without him.

And at least at the front, he could protect her more than if he were stuck behind these palace walls any longer.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to my reader Jessi. You cut my editing time in half.

**I have fallen and I did not realize it would hurt so much.**

Sasuke opened his eyes to the inky sky above him that rippled with every twinkle of its stars. He spread his hands out over the dew covered grass beneath him. Each blade was soft to the touch, like a silk sheet that spread out around him. Turning onto his side, he stared out into the shadows between the thickets of trees. While the branches swayed and bowed with the wind, the shadows remained dense and static, an encompassing darkness that seemed familiar to him. It was the kind of black that swallowed everything around it. The kind of black that spread like a plague from house to house. It was the kind of black where the only visible light had been the pyre that was once his clan’s village.

He pulled himself up slowly, letting his arms rest over the tops of his knees, the plating of his vambraces clinking softly against his greaves. The armor, that of the Emperor’s army, was thick and heavy and he had not yet become accustomed to its burden. It presented a startling challenge in itself just to move around in it, but he would never have known its weight from the way his brother had carried it with such pride.

Sasuke swallowed thickly and squeezed his eyes tight. Itachi was there to greet him, a ghost emerging from the fog in his mind, dressed in armor so similar to what he himself wore. His brother smiled at him, the lines in his face no more pronounced than the day he had left for war. _He was always better at smiling_ , Sasuke thought, _better at being happy._ The black had seeped into his mind, roiling and churning as he pondered bitterly.

This is what he had always wanted, what he had always dreamed of. So why did he feel so - 

The crunch of approaching boots made Sasuke snap his eyes back open. Kakashi was ambling towards him, so Sasuke straightened his posture.

“Awake already?” Kakashi knelt to sit beside him.

“Hn.”

“See anything interesting?”

“Nothing,” Sasuke kept his gaze ahead, losing himself in the now rustling shadows.

“When I was a boy, my friends and I would play in a forest just like this outside the village.”

“Did you grow up in Konoha?” Sasuke asked.

“I did,” Kakashi smiled, his uncovered eye crinkling at the edges.

“Do you miss it?” Sasuke turned his head slightly to face him.

Kakashi seemed to hesitate, thinking on his response before he spoke. It was difficult to not see the pensive dip in his brow or the profoundly bittersweet grimace that affected his features. His obvious compunction was enough to incite curiosity in Sasuke, but the young soldier did not press him further. 

“I miss my memory of it,” Kakashi said finally, softly, “If I went back now, I doubt I would recognize any of it, not the people or the buildings. Not even the forest itself.” Kakashi paused for a breath and looked up at the sky, “Much has changed since I left.”

Sasuke studied the older man; they had only travelled a day, but they might as well have been sitting beneath the stars of some far off land the way he so overtly admired their radiance. He wondered if Kakashi saw the same things he did when he turned his eyes up; freedom, fear, possibility, captivity? Though he had been responsible for most of his training upon his arrival to the palace, Sasuke had scarcely spoken a word to him outside of the confines of basic etiquette. Over the years he had collected a number of questions that were now burning on his tongue. But the one he was most inquisitive about, was perhaps the least appropriate.

“Your eye,” Sasuke began and Kakashi chuckled.

“You do not wish to see it, trust in that,” he tapped the patch he kept over it lightly.

“Did it happen in battle?” Sasuke probed.

“No,” Kakashi shook his head, “I am lucky to have remained unscathed for what I have seen of this war. This,” his face fell, afflicted by the recollection of its memory, “Was a parting gift from a friend.”

“And you still call him friend?”

Kakashi laughed at Sasuke’s befuddlement, but he eventually sobered himself.

“He will always be my friend,” he affirmed, a faraway gaze in his good eye as it fell from the stars. Kakashi was not looking at his fellow soldier now, but rather at the memories playing out before him, “He has hurt me terribly, as I have hurt him. We can not take our betrayals back, just as we can not take back the years of our companionship.”

Sasuke bowed his head, a striking truth to Kakashi’s words that pierced him deeper than he had anticipated. The pragmatic application of such a truth upon his life was too perfect for him to ignore. 

“I would wager there are things your brother has done that you are ashamed of,” Sasuke’s breath hitched as Kakashi spoke. He could hear the mirth in his tone and, rationally, knew that he was speaking of Naruto’s jocular nature. Nonetheless, it was becoming too much for him to contemplate, “But you love him still, despite those things.”

Any other question he had for the man died with that final sentiment. Sasuke stood abruptly as dawn began to break.

“We should ready the caravan,” he said and strode back towards the camp where some of the soldiers began to rouse.

* * *

**I was yours the moment my name left your lips.**

Sasuke mounted his horse and took his position at the front of the line of wagons, waiting for Kakashi to join him. The black steed he rode had come from the Sand, a portentous and virile beast that Gaara had gifted the Emperor. It was among a selection of war horses brought to the palace stables, but by far the most unruly.

Having not ridden since he was a boy, Sasuke found himself guessing his way through every command. He would have preferred to be with his other recruits in the back of a wagon, but Kakashi had insisted on it; generals did not ride with soldiers.

“Ready?” Kakashi pulled his mare up beside Sasuke.

He nodded and tightened his hold on the reins.

“Move out!” Kakashi called and the instruction was echoed down the line of wagons, passed between the other men on horseback that brought up the rear of the caravan.

They started back on the main trail, picking up a steady trot on the dirt road that stretched outward.

“There is a village about a day’s ride from here,” Kakashi called out over the clop of hooves, “With the caravan we will not make it there before nightfall. It is better we rest before we take the mountain pass and reach the village the next morning.”

Sasuke nodded and felt the sweat gathering under his helm with the motion. The sun was barely up, but the heat of the day was already upon them. The thickness of the air provided no opportunity for even a moderate breeze to kindle. He spurred his horse into a loping stride, stirring up a strong wind around him. The trees beside him became nothing but a verdant blur as he galloped forward. Though his eyes stung, he kept them ahead, trained on the boundless road that extended before him.

With every step, every yard, every mile, he knew the palace disappeared further behind them. If he ran fast enough, far enough, it could almost be as though it never was. As though he could outrun it. Outrun her. Outrun everything. He dug in the heels of his boots, encouraging his horse faster.

If he ran fast enough nothing could catch him; not the war, not the nightmares, not his past.

He could be free.

A flash of silver caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He saw Kakashi racing to catch up to him, a bemused look on his face. Sasuke slowed his pace, pulling back on the reins, both to his horse’s dismay and his.

“Scouting ahead?”

Shooting a look behind them, he saw that the caravan was almost a hundred yards back. Sasuke fumbled for a response; had he almost deserted them? 

“Sorry, sir,” he looked about, taking in the vastness of his surroundings. How many years had he spent behind palace walls? And now he was out in the wide expanse of the world. He could _go_ anywhere, _do_ anything. . .

“Jarring, isn’t it?” Kakashi quipped. Except he couldn’t. His duties remained, his obligations were clear. The war was still raging. Sasuke nodded, “Conserve your energy, and your horse’s. I know you are eager, but we will make the journey in good time.”

“Of course,” he bowed his head. This is what he had always wanted, what he had always dreamed of. So why did he feel so -

**Would that I could stay in this delusion forevermore.**

* * *

The sun was beginning to set, still glaring down at them, but the air was becoming more dry the closer they traversed to the mountains. They were approaching the pass, so he knew they would rest soon, but if he were taking the journey alone, he knew he would push through without stopping. To prolong this venture was only causing him more discomfort and apprehension, giving him more time to dwell on his circumstances, more time to think about what he had left behind and what he was moving towards.

It wasn’t long before Kakashi instructed them to pull over for the evening. They lined themselves along the side of the road and threw up thick sheets of canvas tarpaulin to be strung up in the trees, providing them with ample coverage. They made several fires in the area, breaking off into their regiments to chatter and pass around supplies for supper. When night fell, thin cotton blankets served as their only warmth, but with the thick summer air, they found they hardly needed it.

“You should try to sleep,” Kakashi said as Sasuke began walking away from the shelter of the tarp, “You take the next watch.”

Sasuke nodded, but kept forward, approaching the border of the forest that connected with the road. The iron sword sheathed in the scabbard at his hip swung as he walked between the towering trunks. He removed his helm, grasping it limply in his left hand. The slightest breeze passed over his hair matted with sweat, but it was not enough to ruffle it free from its placement against his forehead.

Despite the heat, he continued on until the din of the other soldiers had all but dissipated, until the only company he heard was the hooting of owls and the trickle of a stream somewhere nearby. _He could get used to this_ , he thought, _this kind of quiet_. With its solitude came a consistency, a normalcy, a promise of permanence.

As the shadows of night surrounded him and the tops of the trees coveted him, even from the overhanging moon, he melted into the darkness. He sank to the ground, let the weight of the armor, the weight of responsibility and duty and honor, bring him to his knees.

**Perhaps I am mad. . .**

Sasuke laid back against the grass, his silk sheet spreading out around him. As he closed his eyes, he wondered if she was already asleep or if she was still reading by her window.Had she even realized he was gone yet? Or was she waiting up for him, expecting him to slither into her room any moment now? His heart ached as he thought of her waiting on her bed, candles lit since the light outside had long since died, with a journal in hand to pass the time until he arrived. Maybe she would have disrobed already, or perhaps she was aiming to leave that task to him. She always did find it amusing to see him struggle with her garments.

The echo of her recitations of medical studies and practices rang in his head. He could still hear her regaling him with the most dull texts, a sweet serenade that calmed his nerves and quieted his fears. What did he have now? Before he could think to do it, his hand came up to cover the space over his heart. He had that and it had to be enough.

* * *

Sasuke pulled back on the reins, slowing to a trot as they approached the mouth of the valley. He had spent so many mornings watching the sun rise over the mountains from the palace and now he stood at the base of them, these towering, imposing structures of nature that engulfed the caravan in their shadow.

“Stay alert,” Kakashi said, speaking only to Sasuke, “We do not have the coverage of the forest any more. We will be exposed until we reach the village.”

Sasuke nodded, staring down the pass as they proceeded forward. He could feel sweat gathering in every crease and crevice of his body as they left the shade of the trees. The steep mountainsides bordered them, subjecting them to the heat and leaving only one way through the narrow passage. There was no space to turn around, they could only push forward. He kept his head level as his eyes scanned the area in his peripheral. The little distance they had gone, he could see nooks and clefts in the jagged rock that no doubt provided an exceptional vantage point of the unfortunate traveler passing through.

Suddenly, the flare of a reflection caught Sasuke’s attention.

“Wait,” he hissed sharply, holding an arm out. Kakashi stalled his horse and the line of wagons behind them came to a rolling stop. Sasuke dismounted, a loud thud and chink of armor sounding when his feet hit the dirt. He lifted his helm off his head for a better look, searching the crags for that flash of light. He took a few steps forward, and then a few more.

But he saw nothing.

“We should go ahead,” Kakashi sidled up beside him, “We can leave the wagons here with the soldiers, come back for them when we know it’s clear.”

Sasuke nodded and turned back. He reached for the saddle to hoist himself up when an arrow came sailing overhead, landing with a sharp thwack in the leather, inches from his hand.

He whipped around sharply, eyes scanning the tops of the beetling. The air stilled, no arid wind nor summer breeze, as a herd of archers entered his field of vision. One by one, Sasuke followed them, watching as they lined the length of the caravan. They arced their bows and Kakashi roared,

“Bandits!”

Dozens of arrows were shot off at once.

“Take cover!” Sasuke bellowed, racing alongside Kakashi to make it to the back of a wagon. They clamored inside as the broadheads pierced the canvas tops, tearing through it like a blade through parchment. Outside, the horses reared and bucked, the ones not hitched to the wagons taking to fleeing through the valley.

When the assailment stopped, Sasuke shot to his feet, jumping out into the pass.

“Sasuke!” Kakashi barked, but he was already gone, brandishing his sword as he ran ahead. Kakashi bolted after him, yelling commands to the other troops, “Get your shields! Secure the supplies!”

Troops leapt from the wagons, wielding their bucklers and blades, to form a circle around each one. Yards away, he could see Sasuke running after their horses, wrangling them back to the caravan. Kakashi sprinted forward as Sasuke leapt onto his steed, yanking out the arrow in his saddle. He sent the other horse towards Kakashi as the archers pulled back their bows for another attack.

“Up ahead!” Sasuke called to him, “It slopes! We can reach them from there!”

Kakashi mounted the saddle and steered the horse after Sasuke. They found a bend in the path that veered up onto a crag where a group of the bandits had made their post. Kakashi unsheathed his sword as they barreled towards them. The clop of hooves alerted the thieves and they dropped their bows knowing the arrowheads could not pierce the plating of the soldiers’ armor. Drawing out their blades, they charged at Sasuke and Kakashi, a collective battlecry rising up through their ranks.

The soldiers dismounted and clashed with the bandits, their swords clanking together to create a thunderous echo that shook the valley. With a small horde against only the two of them, they stood back to back, defensive against the barrage of steel. While Kakashi parried, Sasuke attacked, driving his sword through the chest of the man in front of him.

**This madness is the only satisfaction I have known in this life.**

Blood gurgled from his mouth and spurted from the wound when Sasuke pulled his scarlet blade out. He swung it over, but had to duck when one of the bandits’s swords came near his head. Then, he sliced his blade through another man’s stomach. Suddenly, he was knocked forward, sword falling from his hand, as Kakashi was kicked back. They scrambled on the ground, rolling out of the way of a near fatal strike. Separated from Kakashi and his blade, Sasuke was backed onto the boundary of the crag that jutted into the valley. Three of the theives advanced on him, the iron in their hands glinting in the light.

He had only a second to think, bringing his vambraces up to cover his chest as the weight of the sword collided with them. The edge of the blade dug into the plate of his right arm while the other men flanked him, swords raised to cut him down. As the iron bit into his skin, he pushed against it, shoving the man back. He faltered and let go of the hilt, but the blade remained lodged in Sasuke’s arm. Before he could pull it free, his good arm swung out, colliding with the other bandit’s jaw. Then he twisted around, kicking up his leg to connect with the last man’s chest, sending him flying back.

With a bloodthirsty cry, Sasuke ripped the sword out of his arm and felt the cool relief of his blood dripping down his skin beneath his armor. He gripped the hilt, adrenaline pulsing through his body, numbing his nerves. He stepped toward the nearest bandit and shoved the blade through his stomach. The man clamored feebly to grip the iron, but Sasuke had already torn it away. Like lightning, he spun around to face the remaining men that scrambled along the rock to get away. He grabbed the closest one, pulling back on his hair to expose his neck, where he cut the man’s throat. The final bandit, who must have been no older than he, held his hands up in concession, but Sasuke stepped towards him. A trail of blood followed him, dripping down the metal of his armor onto the surface of the mountainside. He raised his arms, the blood-stained sword held above him.

“Wait, wait, please!” The man beneath him pleaded, “We were told you were coming.”

Sasuke froze, his heart pounding in his ears so loud it almost drowned out the man’s words.

“Who told you?” Sasuke questioned as Kakashi dragged himself over, leaving bodies in his wake.

“Sasuke, we have to get back,” Kakashi was breathless, clutching his side with one hand, his sword in the other, “The caravan.”

Sasuke’s eyes snapped up and he looked over to the opposite ridge where there once had stood another row of archers. They were gone now. He turned his eyes back on the bandit, the swirling black of his orbs burning.

“Who told you?!” Sasuke bellowed.

“Akatsuki,” his words were rushed, voice laced with terror, “It was the Akatsuki!”

“Fuck,” Kakashi cursed and bowed his head, “They know we are bringing reinforcements.”

“How do they know that?” Sasuke seemed to first ask Kakashi, then with a barely controlled fury, he asked the man, “How do they know that?”

“I - I do not know,” the man pushed himself up, propping his back against the jagged wall of rock, “We were only told that the Emperor’s caravan would be coming through this pass. They paid us and said we could keep whatever we found.”

Sasuke tightened his fist around the hilt of the sword, the pain in his arm no longer a dull buzz. He was losing a lot of blood, he would need to dress it soon.

**There are times when you come to me in a fury. . .**

“Where are they?” A startling calm came over Sasuke as he stepped closer to the bandit.

“The Akatsuki?” The man shook, “I - I do not know. We met them in the village on the other side of these mountains about a month ago. I could not see their faces, they all wore masks - ,”

“The village is compromised,” Kakashi sighed heavily, but he looked as though he wanted to punch his fist clear through the rock beside him.

“What do we do?” Sasuke asked Kakashi, but kept his eyes on the bandit.

“We have to keep going,” Kakashi said, “There is no other way around now.”

“I can take a team to scout the village,” Sasuke suggested, “The others can guard the caravan until we return.”

Kakashi nodded, then gestured towards the thief on the ground.

“Take him as well.”

* * *

They regrouped with the other soldiers in the valley and surveyed the wreckage. An entire wagon of supplies was scorched beyond salvation and bodies, mostly those of the bandits, were splayed across the bloodied ground.

“We lost a couple of the horses,” a soldier told Kakashi, “One of the bandits shot a lit arrow at the wagon, burned it up in seconds.”

“And the men?” Kakashi asked.

“We lost some of them, only a few.”

“Good,” Kakashi nodded and looked over to where Sasuke sat on the ground. He had been divested of his armor, left only in his cotton tunic, trousers, and boots, while a medic bandaged his wound. It was a deep cut and he would need proper attention soon; they could not afford to be delayed for much longer.

“Bold of them,” the soldier piped up, “Who attacks the Emperor’s army?”

Kakashi turned to face the bandit who stood nearby, his arms bound behind his back.

“It was the Akatsuki. It will not take long for them to realize their mission has failed,” Kakashi raised his voice, commanding the attention of the rest of his subordinates, “We will remain here until Uzumaki-san’s return, but we must keep vigilant! The Akatsuki may be nearby and with greater numbers.”

Sasuke pushed away the medic, crudely tying off the end of his wrappings and approached Kakashi.

“I am ready,” he said firmly, “I only need a few men. We will raise less suspicions then.”

“Very well,” Kakashi’s good eye narrowed on him. He said slowly, sternly, “Be careful, be discreet.”

Sasuke nodded and addressed his men.

“You three,” he pointed and beckoned them forward, “Come with me. No armor, no swords. We travel light.”

* * *

It was nearing dusk by the time Sasuke and his troops came upon the village on the other side of the pass. Dressed plainly with unmarked cloaks to hide their smaller weaponry and coin, they rode in on horseback. The bandit, his hands still bound, shared the saddle with Sasuke. But as soon as they dismounted, hitching their horses at a stable behind a modest shack, Sasuke released the man.

“You will stay by me and you will not speak unless spoken to,” he said gruffly. The man nodded fervently; Sasuke did not need to threaten him, the bandit knew what he was capable of, “What is your name?”

“Suigetsu,” he answered.

“Suigetsu,” Sasuke affirmed, “Where did you meet with the Akatsuki?”

“A tavern, just down the way,” he pointed in the direction.

“Take us,” Sasuke jerked his head and the other soldiers followed.

**. . . nothing you have done, nothing you do, could have stopped this.**

“You seem important,” Suigetsu quipped, “You some kind of Lord?”

“What did I say?” Sasuke hissed, silencing Suigetsu as he led them on.

It was a short walk to the village tavern, a squalid hut with no doors and a tapered roof. There were only a handful of patrons inside, as could be seen through the glassless windows. The owner, a beefy armed man with a long beard, nodded to them and beckoned them inside, seeming to recognize Suigetsu.

“Two for me and one for each of my friends,” he said to the barkeep.

“Upfront this time,” despite his stern command, he flashed a genial smile at Suigetsu who dug into the pockets of his pants and pulled out a few coins.

“That’s for me and, uh,” he glanced back at Sasuke, “My friends will pay for themselves.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and reached into his cloak to draw out payment for the remainder of the drink. As he handed the money over, Sasuke gave Suigetsu a pointed look.

“Enji,” he said to the barkeep, “My friends are looking for that group that came through here about a month ago.”

Enji set six glasses of saké on the bar before them and Suigetsu waisted no time taking a seat to toss back his share. Sasuke nodded to his soldiers and they grabbed at theirs eagerly.

“You know, the ones in those weird masks,” Suigetsu emphasized his next words with a raise of his brows, “The Aka - ,”

“Yeah, I remember them,” Enji said stiffly, “What about it?”

“Are they still here?”

“Nah, they left that night,” Enji stroked the end of his beard, “Nearly cleaned me out, but they payed well.”

“Thanks, Enji,” Suigetsu took up the glass that Sasuke hadn't touched and drank it down in a single gulp, “I’ll see you around.”

Suigetsu waved and stood from the bar, but Sasuke stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Where did they go?” Sasuke asked bluntly, the command in his voice calling the attention of the other patrons. Enji narrowed his eyes, bristling at the bluntness of his attitude.

“They did not share that information with me,” he said coldly.

“Are you sure?” Sasuke questioned.

“We should go,” Suigetsu whispered harshly, “This is not a place you want to start a fight.”

Glancing sideways at him, Sasuke clenched his fist and felt the prickle of pain shoot up his arm.

“He said they are not here,” Suigetsu reasoned, “He would not lie to us.”

“Would you?” Sasuke challenged, causing Suigetsu to grimace.

“I have no cause to,” he shook his head, “You are the only reason I am still breathing.”

“Hn,” Sasuke gritted his teeth and turned on his heel, storming out of the tavern with his soldiers close behind. When they were out of earshot, a good distance into the center of the village, Sasuke spoke again, “It means nothing. They could still be here.”

“This place isn’t very big,” Suigetsu argued, “He would know if they were still here.”

“Where else did you go that night?” Sasuke interrogated him.

“To the inn,” Suigetsu admitted, “But that was all!”

“Keep an eye on him,” Sasuke spat to his soldiers and barged towards the inn. He threw the doors open.

“Can I help you?” The woman behind the desk narrowed her eyes at him.

“I am looking for a group of men in masks, are they here?”

“No,” she said carefully, eyes flicking about him as though she were searching for something, “They left some time ago.”

“Where were they going?” He persisted.

“I do not know,” she stammered, “They did not say.”

Sasuke let out a frustrated growl and left, ambling back up the road to his troops.

“They are not here,” the pain in his arm was throbbing now, and he could feel the trickle of blood seeping through his bandages, “We should get back to the caravan.”

“Does that mean I am free to go?” Suigetsu asked hopefully.

“No,” Sasuke’s voice was a deadly timbre, “You will remain with us, until I say otherwise.”

Suigetsu’s shoulders slumped as Sasuke led them back to the horses.

* * *

“They must have only been passing through,” Sasuke said to Kakashi, peeling off the bloodied wrappings around his forearm. He jerked his head towards Suigetsu who was leaning against one of the wagons, his hands bound once more, “What do we do with him?”

“I always wanted a pet,” Kakashi responded with snark. Sasuke smirked, but it faltered as he examined the deep laceration on the back of his arm below his wrist. In the dark of night, his blood appeared black, unceremoniously smeared along the length of the wound and around it. He winced as the air hit it. Kakashi pointed at it with a stern finger, “That will scar.”

“You think so?”

Kakashi nodded.

“But it will be worse if we don’t get you to a proper medic with the right supplies. We should keep moving; we can rest the next night. I will write my report tomorrow. No point staying here any longer,” Kakashi stood from the ground, peering at Sasuke who had yet to look up from his wound. There was a peculiar gleam in his eye, “You afraid of a little scar?”

Sasuke glowered at him, lowering his hand and using it to push himself to his feet. He swallowed the sharp pain that shot through him.

“Let’s go.”

Sasuke did not bother to redress in his armor, he could not bear it while the affliction of his wound radiated throughout his body. His head was throbbing, he was parched and hungry, and though his mind raced, his body needed sleep, but instead, he went about helping the other soldiers ready the caravan for departure. They would push through night, through the pass, onward to the front. He would be able to rest there. But until then, he would keep going.

Sasuke spared himself a moment to look up at the clear sky, at the blazing stars that shined down on him.

This is what he had always wanted, what he had always dreamed of. So why did he feel so -

* * *

_“May I keep one?”_

_“What?” He asked incredulously. She frowned at his reaction and clutched the dagger to her chest, the steel puckering the fabric of her kimono._

_“You have plenty,” she tried to attempt at humor, smiling wryly, “Surely you won’t miss_ one _.”_

_“No,” he said curtly and held his hand out. She stepped back and hit the rough bark of a tree._

_“I won’t use it, I will only keep it under my pillow,” she bargained, “For protection.”_

_“Give me the knife, Sakura,” he stepped imposingly toward her, but she straightened herself defiantly._

_“No,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “I need it more than you do.”_

_Sasuke sighed, shoulders slumping. Her knuckles were white from how tightly she gripped the hilt of the blade._

_“You are safe.”_

_“For now,” she bit out._

_“Yes,” he agreed, “But you will have no need for that.”_

_“But, I - ,”_

_“Not while I am here.”_

_Sakura looked up into the dark pools of his eyes, the black of them bleeding into the night around her, swallowing the light of the moon as he closed the distance between them._

_“I can protect myself,” she protested._

_“I know you can,” he said with a subtle smirk, “But I would be more concerned with you stabbing me in the middle of the night.”_

_Beneath the humor in his tone and behind the mirth in his eyes, there was something else. An uncertainty, maybe, a hesitation. He said he trusted her, but why would he not give her this one little thing? Why would he not let her have this peace of mind? She could not rely on his strength forever. She wanted to rely on hers. She needed to know her own worth. She needed to know that she was more than an heir to a throne, more than an Emperor’s daughter, more than the love she had for this man. She did not doubt that he knew more about her than she herself did, but maybe that is why he hesitated. Maybe he knew something about her that she did not._

_Sakura twirled the hilt in her hand until the point of the blade kissed the peek of skin visible through the neckline of her kimono. He took the knife from her slackened fingers and pocketed it with the others strapped to his waist._

_“Only if you provoke me,” her lips quirked into a smile and he felt relief flood through him. She was a quick learner and a spirited fighter, but he did not wish to perpetuate fantasies of a life she could not have._ Not that she should want it _, he thought. He knew the notion was irrational, but he often believed that if she had the opportunity now that she would be the one to rush into danger. If there was another attack on the palace, she would take her place beside the other guards to defend her home._

_Well, not if he could help it. He would not see her with a blade to her throat again. He would not lose another person he cared about._

* * *

He was staring up at the same sky, but it was a different forest, a different part of this land, a different night spent on his silk sheet of grass.

“See something up there?”

Sasuke’s eyes shot open to see Suigetsu bent over him, a sardonic grin on his face. With a grimace, Sasuke pulled himself up and Suigetsu took it as an invitation to sit beside him, bound hands dangling between his knees.

“Why is it you do not sleep with the rest of them?”

Sasuke did not spare him a sideways glance and instead stared out into the cluster of trees in front of him.

“Are you lonely?”

His eyes snapped up to Suigetsu’s where he glared sharply at the man.

**I am only now reminded of the fragility of it all. . .**

What kind of question was that?

“Do not be ashamed,” Suigetsu laughed boisterously, “I am, too.”

“You were part of a band of thieves,” Sasuke said patently.

“It kept me wealthy enough,” Suigetsu agreed, lips quirked upward, “And I enjoy cutting people with sharp things.”

Sasuke grimaced and looked away from him, his gaze back on the trees once more. He noticed that the shadows seemed a little bit darker that night, the moon a little less brilliant, the forest a little too big.

“Do you ever think about making a run for it?” Suigetsu asked suddenly, the humor fading from his tone, “Just leaving it all behind? Going out on your own?”

Sasuke bowed his head, unable to keep himself from pondering the question. 

“Desertion,” he said, fisting his hands together, “It is a crime punishable by death.”

“If they catch you,” Suigetsu bargained, “Otherwise you are a free man.”

“A dishonorable one,” Sasuke corrected him.

“But free,” Suigetsu amended.

Sasuke struggled to quell the memory that lurked just beyond those words, the memory of Itachi returning from war, from killing the Harunos’ sole male heir, from deserting the Emperor.

“Did you hear that?” Suigetsu sucked in a sharp breath and Sasuke’s eyes shot up.

“What?”

“Listen,” Suigetsu pointed with his bound hands to the edge of the trees. They sat still, but nothing rose above the leaves that rustled with the wind.

“More bandits?” Sasuke quipped humorlessly, shaking his head as he got to his feet.

“No, I swear, I heard something,” Suigetsu scrambled up, a feat given his captive state. Sasuke narrowed his eyes; he refused to be played for a fool.

“Go back to the camp,” he instructed him, “You have had enough freedom for one night.”

* * *

“We are only a couple days out now,” Kakashi said as they rode ahead of the caravan. They once more had found the coverage of trees along their path to the battlefield. But even with the lack of armor, Sasuke found it did little to assuage his discomfort, “How is your arm?”

“Fine,” Sasuke said stiffly, tightening his grip as he held the reins.

“Let me see,” Kakashi prodded. Sasuke spared him a glance before returning his gaze to the road ahead. With his good arm, he lifted the loose sleeve of his tunic to expose the wound. He waited for Kakashi to say something, but was met with only silence.

“Well?” Sasuke urged him.

“Take this,” Kakashi reached for a small gourd strapped to his horse, “Pour it on.”

Sasuke took the gourd begrudgingly and heard the slosh of liquid inside. His horse on a steady course, he released the reins and held his arm out. Clamping his teeth over the cork, he yanked it free and raised the mouth of the gourd over the laceration, then tipped it over.

The sting was instant, a scorching pain that flared from the site of the wound and sent tingling aftershocks through his body. His teeth dug into the cork as he hissed. But even after he stopped the flow of alcohol, it continued to burn.

“Now it is less likely to be infected,” Kakashi snatched the gourd back from Sasuke, emptying the remaining contents down his gullet, “You should thank me. I will not be able to get more of this until I return to the palace.”

“Hn,” Sasuke grunted through his set jaw, his mind was too dizzied from the pain to comprehend humor, “Thank you.”

“How is our prisoner?”

“I have had complaints,” Sasuke took up his reins again, glancing down at the somewhat cleaned cut that traveled through his forearm. The blood that had dried around it had been re-wetted by the alcohol, leaving a scaly painting on his skin.

“From the soldiers?”

“Yes,” Sasuke looked up to the horizon, “They say he talks too much.”

Kakashi chuckled heartily.

“He does,” Sasuke affirmed, “When can we be rid of him?”

“He might be useful,” Kakashi shrugged.

“He is a thief,” Sasuke protested, “He has no loyalty.”

“That could change,” Kakashi mused, “You would be surprised, I was somewhat of a rebel myself when I was younger.”

**I know you, in all of your honest altruism. . .**

“Hn.”

* * *

He ran his fingers along the edge of the gash on his forearm, tracing the winding line where his skin had been split open all the way to where it rejoined. He had suffered injuries before, in training, in the attack on the palace, but never anything like this. Never something in the heat of a battle.

Never something so severe.

Out here, there was no infirmary to go to for treatment, to recover in.

But, she was also not here to visit him, to tend to him, to sit by his side with worry in her eyes and love on her lips.

Sasuke let his arm fall to his side and looked out into the trees. Behind him, the noise from his troops crescendoed as they laughed at something that was said. He supposed he should be with them, reveling in their merriment, but all he could think about was what awaited him at the end of this journey. They would arrive at the battlefield, and then what?

Glory? Riches and a hero’s welcome home? Where would home be after the war was over? Would he go back to the palace? Go back to her? Sasuke pulled himself up slowly and meandered forward, away from his fellow troops.

If she was not already married, she would not take him back. She would not welcome him with open arms into her heart, into her bed. Not after what he did.

So what would he do? What else did he have, if not for this war?

He slipped into the shadows of the forest and let the darkness engulf him.

**. . . I know we are doomed. . .**

Thwack!

Sasuke whipped around at the sound of a blade slicing through the air, right past his ear. He could see it lodged in the tree behind him. He turned back rapidly and looked up to the trees that ruffled in the summer wind, scanning them as best he could in the dim light. As he took a step forward, the call of a thrush disrupted the silence.

His hand went to curl around the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it, when he realized he didn’t have it. Suddenly, a loud snap sounded from behind him. He rotated sharply and saw Suigetsu sauntering towards him.

“Why are you out here all al - ,”

Sasuke held a finger to his lips and Suigetsu clamped up. Slowly, Sasuke turned back around, eyes cast to the ground as he passed over every silhouette cast by every limb from every tree that surrounded them.

And then he saw it.

He only let his gaze rest for a moment, careful not to give away his knowledge of the man kneeling on a high branch above them, the shape of which was visible in the grass at his feet. He turned on his foot, as if to retreat from the figure.

“We should go back to the camp,” Sasuke raised his voice just enough that it would be carried to the man hiding in the trees. Suigetsu nodded, understanding his meaning, and made to retreat from the forest. Sasuke approached the blade stuck in the tree, reaching a hand up to examine it; a kunai. With lightning speed, he ripped it from the tree and flung himself around, unleashing the blade in the direction of the figure.

A sharp clink echoed through the trees and the kunai came flying back at them. Sasuke rolled out of the way, then shot to his feet and took off after the assailant. He could see him now, moving through the trees like an acrobat, jumping from branch to branch.

“Sasuke!” he heard Suigetsu calling after him, but he kept running, eyes turned up, glued to the man. His heart raced and his arm throbbed from the force of the throw. Faintly, he could feel the dribble of blood winding down his wrist, dripping off his fingers. His breathing became shallow and the edges of his vision blurred. But he could not stop, he had to catch him.

The zing of another kunai sailing towards him caused him to stumble out of the way, faltering in his footing, but he was quick to recover, storming through the trees. Behind him, Suigetsu was peeling after him, bound hands held outward.

“Sasuke!”

The rush of his blood pounding in his ears washed out every other sound as his vision shrunk to the size of a pinhole. Then, he felt the ground before he realized he’d fallen. His head had the weight of a brick as he tried to lift it in time to see the figure dashing away from him.

“Sasuke!” Suigetsu slid to his knees and grabbed the hem of Sasuke’s tunic. He took it in his teeth and pulled with his shackled hands to rip the material. His knee pressed into Sasuke’s palm as he held him in place and tried to slide the material under his wrist, “I need your help! Grab the other end of this!”

His vision all but black, Sasuke’s good arm flailed in the air until he felt Suigetsu shove the cloth into his hand.

“Good,” Suigetsu commended him and Sasuke felt a sharp tug followed by a sudden pressure like someone was squeezing the area of his wound, “We need to get you back to camp. You need a doctor.”

_He needed her_ , he thought dimly. She would know what to do. All those medical journals - 

Sasuke blinked his eyes open to see an odd look of relief on Suigetsu’s face.

“You blacked out,” he said, “Only for a minute or two.”

“Why are you here?” Sasuke’s voice cracked from exhaustion.

“I just helped you, you ungrateful ass,” he snapped.

“Why did they let you wander off alone?” Sasuke sat up too quickly and touched a hand to his head as his vision swam.

“I told them I needed to relieve myself. Don’t think anybody wanted to watch that,” he grinned, “I saw you go off on your own, thought you could use some company.”

“Hn.”

“Now do you believe me? I told you I saw something the other night.”

Sasuke nodded limply.

“Here,” Suigetsu fished in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a kunai, “Picked it up when you ran off.”

Sasuke took it from him with his good hand and held it up. It was difficult to see in only the moonlight, but he could almost make out the swirling cloud engraved on the face of the blade. He pocketed the kunai and hoisted himself up on one arm. Suigetsu followed him, hands reaching out as Sasuke wobbled.

“Let’s get back to camp. I need to tell Kakashi-san.”

“Take it easy, go slow,” Suigetsu instructed him, “Put your arm around me.”

Sasuke glared at him.

“Well it is my fault,” he pointed out, “It’s the least I can do.”

Ignoring him, Sasuke walked forward, taking careful steps to even his pace. The tie around his wound had at least staunched the bleeding, but the pain of its constriction was difficult to ignore. Suigetsu stayed closed behind until they reached the caravan. He and Sasuke approached Kakashi where he sat with a few other soldiers before a small fire, talking idly. Sasuke reached into his pocket and gripped the blade.

“We’re being followed,” he dropped the kunai on the ground in front of Kakashi. The chatter around them stopped and Kakashi scooped up the kunai, holding it to the fire.

“You encountered one of them?”

“He ran off before I could catch him,” the disappointment and frustration in Sasuke’s voice was evident.

“But they have not attacked us yet,” Kakashi mused curiously.

“Scouts maybe,” Sasuke suggested.

“You should sit down,” Suigetsu hissed quietly and Sasuke shot him a warning glare.

“Konoha steel,” Kakashi murmured, running his fingers over the Akatsuki symbol, “You can see where the emblem used to be. They probably heated it until it was malleable enough to carve the cloud in.”

The other soldiers watched aptly as Kakashi examined it further.

“They have infiltrated Konoha then?” Sasuke asked.

“Maybe,” Kakashi thought carefully for a moment, “Or they stole it off the dead.”

“I thought the Hokage was protected,” Sasuke’s brows furrowed.

“His army is formidable, but not invincible,” Kakashi said, “They have not been without their casualties. But, this blade looks old, passed down perhaps - generational even.”

Kakashi froze when he said that, as though he’d just remembered something. He stood quickly, pocketing the blade.

“I must write my report for the day. Get some sleep, I will have somebody else take your watch,” Kakashi called over his shoulder as he walked away, “If they have not attacked us yet, they are not going to tonight.”

Sasuke squeezed his arm as he watched Kakashi retreat; the pain was becoming too much of a nuisance to ignore now.

“They know we could not stop you at the pass,” Suigetsu whispered as the other troops began talking amongst themselves once more. Sasuke nodded.

“They know we are coming,” he affirmed, “And they are prepared.”

* * *

**In the time it takes those words to reach my lips, I have fallen again.**

Sasuke had believed that the farther they traveled from the palace, the freer he would find himself to be. Instead, he felt the manacles upon him growing heavier the closer they came to the battlefield. And now, miles from the front, all he could think of was what he had left behind and the line that he had crossed in doing so.

He could no longer feel the marks on his back, the evidence of her pleasure that she had imparted on him. A week ago they were scars, today, only memories. He peered down at the bandage over his arm. Every inch of him that had belonged to her touch would be reclaimed through swords and blood and battle, until he was nothing more than a slave to this war. Less than a man, less than a person, less to be loved.

When he saw the wooden structures and canvas tents come into view, his heart stopped. A group of soldiers manning the border caught sight of them and waved them excitedly forward. Their arrival was a blur of gratitude and spouted commands and instructions, troops being pulled this way and that, but Sasuke stood in the middle of it all, dismounted beside his horse. An ostler came up to him to take the reins and lead the steed to the stables. Sasuke reluctantly let go, listless as he waited to be told where to go or what to do.

“Get to the infirmary.”

Sasuke stiffened, he had not heard Kakashi come up behind him.

“There will be plenty of time to look around later,” he assured him, “But right now you need to be stitched up."

Vaguely, Sasuke nodded, but even when Kakashi walked away, called over by some soldier, he remained rooted to the spot. He wasn’t sure what it was he was waiting for, but then he heard it.

That familiar voice caught his ear and he turned about faster than should have been possible for his level of fatigue. He watched for a long moment as the blonde-haired general barked orders at different soldiers in his regiment. It had been years, _years_ , but it looked as though he’d hardly changed a bit. The war had undoubtedly taken its toll, Sasuke was certain of that, but somehow, he had managed to maintain that same stupid grin on his face. 

“Hey, dobe!” Sasuke yelled out, scarcely able to contain his own smirk when Naruto looked up startled and saw him. In a second, they were running for each other. 

“Teme!” Naruto brought him into a crushing hug and held on long enough for Sasuke to have to shove him off. Even still, Naruto was clutching onto him, his head, his shoulders, any tangible piece that let him know his brother was actually there, standing in front of him. And despite himself, despite the setting, Naruto rested his forehead against Sasuke’s and started crying. 

* * *

_The moment did not last long; it was only for the length of a single inhale, maybe even less than that, but it was the sweetest moment he had ever known_ ** _._** _It was a moment that he would hold onto for as long as his lungs could draw breath.No matter how many times he blinked, she did not disappear from his grasp. She was still curled intimately against him. She was still naked in his arms. She was still_ there _._

_He wished he could pepper her with kisses, paving a path down her spine until she stirred into consciousness. He supposed she might laugh at the action or grumble at being woken from such a deep slumber. She would forgive him though, reciting something sweet about how content she was or how she liked waking up to him. Or perhaps she would simply tell him that she loved him. And he, sharing in her bliss, would be compelled to repeat those words. The weight of their truth, and thus their existence, was not lost on him. In fact, while their inception had caused enough of a disturbance within him, he could never have accounted for the emphatic and utterly untamed chaos that speaking them aloud had created within him._

_He did not regret those words, he never would, because she deserved to hear them every day for the rest of her life and it caused a physical ache in his heart that he had not said them sooner. But, they had set in motion an irreparable change between them. Of course, this evolution had begun the moment she had invited him inside her quarters. He was fooling himself by trying to shift the blame onto those three little words he had uttered the previous night. He had expressed them with every kiss upon her lips, with every moment spent between her quivering thighs, and with every night they had sparred in the forest. He had expressed them every evening before the one they had just shared._

_And slowly, piece by agonizing piece, she had collected every last fragment of his fractured being until she owned him completely. He belonged to her, this lithe woman that lay in his arms, unconsciously oblivious to his plight. As if she could hear his thoughts, her hand twitched against his chest. He reached his free arm up to clasp her fingers in his. She stilled, making a soft, placid sound against his skin._

_It was in that fleeting, but whole, moment that he saw, he felt, he knew peace for the first time in all his years. It was in that moment that he was able to glimpse the life he might have had; the life spent at her side and in her bed. A life of love and fulfillment. A life made up of nights like the one they had just shared, but also of nights that they had yet to experience. A life where he might walk beside her and hold her hand or kiss her in the illuminated exposure of the day. A life where he could love her without shame or fear or remorse._

_It was a life of fortune, freedom, and hope. It was a life of belonging._

_And it terrified him._

_The light began to seep through the fabric of her curtains and, though he had not succumbed to sleep as she had in the wee hours before dawn, it woke him from his idyllic trance. It crept slowly across the slats of her floors, pouring onto her sheets, bleeding into his world until it muddled his bliss and, finally, it kissed the length of her hair that covered her bare back._

_And that was the moment he knew it was time for him to leave. He had overstayed his welcome, in the palace and in her heart. He had nothing to offer her but the empty promises and splintered aspirations of a disgraced man. So he slipped quietly out of her bed and dressed himself in his uniform. Sasuke did not look back as he lifted her window, angling it to avoid the loud squeak, and snuck out of her rooms._

_When he walked around the back of her quarters he looked up, out towards the gardens. The sky was too clear, the world was too bright, the day was too perfect. But what was most disparaging was that he knew he would never see a sight so beautiful again. The palace grounds he had called his home for so many years would soon be replaced with a forest of trees, a ramshackle tent, and a bloody battleground. The years of adolescence with his brother, the months spent training his recruits, the days sparring in the forest at night, the hours escorting her through the gardens, those precious minutes spent hidden beneath the branches of the willow tree, and the sparse seconds of pure elation exchanged through three words; like the threads of the tapestry that made him, or the paint on a canvas that depicted him, or the footsteps in the ground that paved his path, they would all be undone with time. They would loosen and evanesce and erode, until he was left only with a murky recollection of what once had been._

_He looked out over the still lake, everything appearing serene as the sun rose to bathe the world in its golden luminance. Not even a modest breeze disturbed the pendulous leaves of the willow tree. It was almost as if time had frozen for him. Much like that one quiet morning in winter when she had enthralled him with curious sentiments and puzzling questions, the vast absence that surrounded him seemed to watch on in devoted veneration and rapt anticipation for what he might do. Now, he found himself at another crossroad and the world around him bore witness to his strife._

_A hawk soared overhead, screeching as it came to perch on a paneled roof nearby, disturbing the pensive calm._

_His face fell, his time was up. This, too, would become just a memory, a series of incoherent emotions and scenes that wove into some distorted mosaic that lived on solely in his mind, existing no longer as a piece of history, but as a cruel memento of what could have been._

_He turned towards the barracks._

_This is what he had always wanted, what he had always dreamed of._

_So why did he feel so empty?_

* * *

**Sasuke,**

**I have fallen and I did not realize it would hurt so much. Of the countless letters I have received, I have never felt so compelled to write one.**

**Never before have I been so haunted by such feelings, but to utter them aloud is to do them a disservice. No poet nor author of prose could conjure words worthy to express my love for you. You may think me silly, foolish, ignorant - well, in truth, I do not know your thoughts for me. There are times when you come to me in a fury, claiming my heart with your passion as you do my body with your touch. But there are also times when you have been more cold and harsh than the winter outside these walls.**

**My love, I address you as such, because to call you anything else simply will not do. Though I know we are doomed, you fill me with such passion and hope that I laugh at the very notion we might one day be parted. Perhaps I am mad to do so, but alas, this madness is the only satisfaction I have known in this life. Would that I could stay in this delusion forevermore.**

**I am only now reminded of the fragility of it all as you lay on a bed in the infirmary. Certainly, this should deter me, frighten me, yet it imbues me with a motivation to seize what I want while I still can. I know you, in all of your honest altruism, will hope to discourage such feelings from me. But I wish you to know, nothing you have done, nothing you do, could have stopped this.**

**I was yours the moment my name left your lips.**

**And I continue to be, for now, and for as long as you will have me.**

**In the time it takes those words to reach my lips, I have fallen again.**

**So I remain by your side, endlessly yours,**

**Sakura**

Sasuke’s hands shook the longer he stared at the dainty scrawl of her handwriting. The thickness in his throat made it difficult for him to swallow the sentiments her words had inspired in him. He ran his thumb over the edges of the parchment that were tattered from the many times he had folded and unfolded it over the course of his journey to the front.

He sat up in the gurney, reaching over the side with his left arm to grab for his pack. His right, having been stitched up, bandaged, and numbed by some cream they had given him, was practically useless, so he struggled to dig inside the pockets with one hand. Finally, his fingers got hold of what he was searching for and he pulled out the little metal key to her rooms.

Placing it in the center of her letter, he folded the parchment at each crease, until the key was carefully secured inside of it. He stroked the indention of it thoughtfully, before slipping it into the left breast pocket of his tunic. The weight of it sat heavy on his heart as he leaned back on the pillows of the gurney.

But as he lay there, he began to marvel at the prospect of sleep. He could rest now, at least until tomorrow. He did not know what awaited him then, but for once, for now, it did not matter. So he let himself fall back into the darkness, grateful for it that night, as it swallowed him completely.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DANIEL1120, this chapter would not have come together without you. THANK YOU. The insane amount of typos and grammatical errors before he got his hands on this chapter - you would think I'd have written it while I was drunk.
> 
> I'm so sorry about the delay in this update, but you'll be happy to know that chapter 27 will be following shortly after (maybe a week or so). I hope everyone has been taking care of themselves - physically, mentally, emotionally - and I hope your families are staying healthy.
> 
> As always, your reviews bring me so much joy! Thank you.

_"Are you ready?"_

_Though the disembodied voice seemed to echo around him, there was nothing but a pitch black expanse before his eyes. He turned his head to the side, felt the motion of the shift from the base of his neck, and still he was met with a vast nothingness. Stretching his arms out, he tried to feel around for something tangible, but came up empty. There was only black, darker than any night he had ever known. As he took a few steps forward, the crunch of dirt beneath his bare feet startled him. He could feel that, the sharp pressure of rough pebbles digging into his soles._

_The voice spoke again,_

_"Are you ready? We have to run."_

_He recognized something in those words, or maybe it was the tone in which they were spoken. He_ had _been running,_ they _had been running all night; that was why his legs ached and his lungs burned. How could he run anymore? They were trying to escape something - something that seemed_ inevitable _. . ._

_Suddenly, he was jerked forward by a sharp pressure at his wrist. He spurred himself on, trying to keep up with the person that must be in front of him. His fingers flailed in the darkness, searching for something to hold on to, for the person that had a hold on him._

_"Close your eyes, Sasuke. Don't look, just keep running. I've got you."_

_His heart pumped furiously and he felt his eyes watering, the wind rushing past him, but seeing nothing around him. He swallowed gulps of air as he fought to breathe, but it felt like he was swallowing smoke. He turned his head even as he was pulled in another direction and this time he saw it; the towering inferno billowing into the night sky. He stumbled at the sight, foot catching on something in the darkness, and then he felt himself falling down, slipping further, winding deeper, succumbing forever -_

"Oi, Teme," Naruto smacked Sasuke's cheek lightly. Sasuke stirred, his hand still clutched over his heart, fingers twitching around the corners of the parchment as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Hn?"

"Come on, wake up."

Sasuke swatted his hand away with a growl, but Naruto only chuckled.

"What do you want?" He glared, irritated at being roused from the rest he had finally achieved, however discontented it had been.

"I brought you food," Naruto pretended to be affronted by Sasuke's cold manner, but he understood that was how his brother had always been, ever since they were kids.

"I will eat when I am hungry," he said flatly, turning his head away from the cracked bowl of rice and vegetables where atop it sat a modest helping of unseasoned meat. The rations would be diminutive here, but that did not concern him for he found himself to have no appetite.

"What is that?" Naruto reached towards Sasuke, but was shrugged off before he could discover the parchment.

"Nothing," Sasuke grabbed the bowl with his good hand and started eating.

"I am surprised to see they did not chop your arm off entirely," Naruto scrunched his nose and leaned in close, "You know, I think it looks infected."

Sasuke shoved him back when he could not retort through the mouthful he was chewing on. The laceration on his arm flared from a dull throb to a wincing pain, but he resolved that it was worth it when he saw the grin on Naruto's face.

"You need something, Dobe?"

"Yes, I need you to get up off your ass so we can hunt these Akatsuki," Naruto folded his arms over his chest, "Think you can still keep up with the rest of us in your fragile state?"

"Hn. We may share the same title now, but that does not mean you are my equal," Sasuke said with a playful sneer. Naruto opened his mouth to lob a scathing retort, but stumbled and dropped his gaze. He forced a harsh laugh past his lips, an attempt to hide the thickness in his throat.

"I am glad you are here," he whispered sincerely. Sasuke bowed his head, but gave the slightest nod in agreement. There was too much to be said and, yet, too little to say it with. How many missed months and foregone fortnights had passed? The years of each others' absence stretched between them, bridging their divide, but neither one made any movement to cross it.

"How is it here?"

"Dreadful," Naruto's voice was grim and he appeared more solemn than Sasuke had ever seen him before, "We can not claim any ground beyond our camp and the Akatsuki seem to know our movements before even we do."

"And the villages?" Sasuke propped himself up on his pillows, adopting an air of urgency despite his predicament.

"We have no contact with them. Since the Akatsuki took over, we can no longer trade or travel. Our resources rely solely on what we receive from the palace now and we are confined to the camp," though this was not new information to Naruto, reciting it aloud took its toll once more. He rubbed his eyes, cupped his chin, and frowned. Naruto did not remember that night, the night they fled - at least not entirely. He was not born in blood or remade through steel. Even now, as his bones ached and his flesh scarred, war did not carry the same meaning for him as it did Sasuke. But as they sat in thoughtful silence, it seemed the years of unrest had caught up to him. The sallow skin beneath his eyes sloped to his sunken cheeks that bordered his trembling lips; he appeared a haunting depiction of his former self.

"They have pushed us back so far, I feared we would not be able to hold out much longer," Naruto hung his head, ashamed that he alone could not turn the tide of this war and ashamed that he had not yet restored his father's name, "These troops, are they well trained?"

"I trained them myself," Sasuke assured him and Naruto looked up with a grin.

"Well, then we are doomed."

"Hn, I see you have lost your fortitude, but not your arrogance."

Naruto laughed boisterously, shaking his head at Sasuke.

"Only that and my wits."

Sasuke smirked and quipped, "You never had those to begin with."

"You are lucky that arm is still healing," Naruto leaned forward, narrowing his gaze.

"It is a fair fight then," Sasuke taunted him.

"You could grow two more and it still would not be fair," his brother grinned, laughing boisterously.

"Hn," Sasuke chuckled softly; this was easy for him. He did not have to quander over his responses or berate himself for speaking out of turn. There were no consequences to be had from his ill manner of speech and, much like the rapport of their childhood, he could navigate such banter with little more than a breath. It was different after so many months, surely, but familiar, and he found it to be a comfort.

Naruto quickly sobered himself and rubbed his hands together anxiously.

"Tell me," he exhaled sharply through his nostrils, "How is Hinata-chan?"

"I thought you came here to inform me of the Akatsuki," Sasuke could not help himself from further tormenting his brother after being apart for so long.

"We can talk of them later," Naruto waved an errant hand, but his azure eyes pled silently as he spoke softly, "Tell me."

The key in Sasuke's pocket suddenly felt like a stone as he regarded Naruto's nervous expression. She had to know by now, she must have figured it out. What did she think of him?

"She worries for you."

He hoped Sakura hated him. He hoped that she exposed him for the vile traitor he was. He hoped that she would never have to see him again. He hoped that he would never have to be faced with the consequences of the pain he undoubtedly caused her.

"I miss her," Naruto muttered quietly, bitterly, his shoulders sagging. Sasuke set his jaw tight, perturbed by his brother's candor, "It is difficult for us to send correspondence to the palace these days. The Akatsuki have intercepted us at every turn," Naruto sighed heavily, "I fear for her safety."

"The palace was attacked," Sasuke said, unsure of whether or not Naruto had been informed, "Twice."

It seemed so far off now, but Naruto had been gone for much longer.

"Hinata-chan told me," he nodded, though it was clear it pained him to think on it, "She also told me that you saved Sakura-san from the Akatsuki. Twice."

Sasuke's gaze fell to his lap and he did not make a sound.

"So modest," Naruto leaned forward with a grin and pinched his cheek, but Sasuke jerked away from him, "It is no wonder Kizashi-sama took a liking to you."

"Hn," Sasuke swallowed thickly and put down his bowl, "How are they?" Lowering his voice, he clarified, "Minato and Kushina."

"I have not spoken to them in some time," Naruto shook his head, raking a hand through his mess of hair, "It is difficult to get any correspondence across the border. I can not risk it now."

"But they are safe?" Sasuke's brows knitted together, a nervous sweat gathering on his palms. Naruto took a breath; he could not say for sure, but then why would he deny his brother the reassurance of ignorance?

"Yes, they are safe."

Sasuke breathed a sigh of relief; that was one less burden for him to carry. But after a heavy silence, Sasuke grumbled,

"Enough of this. I am here now to ensure you do not cause any more trouble."

"Me?!" Naruto balked, "It is the damned Akatsuki! I had hoped the Emperor would send us valuable assistance, yet they could not even deliver you to me in one piece."

Sasuke glowered at his brother,

"I will not let this delay our mission," he replied steadfastly, "I intend to reach the first village tonight. As planned."

"Tonight?" At once all humor had been leeched from Naruto's countenance, "You must rest more. You are in no condition for a fight."

"If it comes to that, I will be ready," he said flippantly, even as needles of pain shot up his arm in protest. Naruto grimaced as he looked Sasuke over.

"You are of more use to us when you are in full health."

"We do not have the luxury," Sasuke snapped, "If we wait any longer, we are only wasting our time. We must learn their numbers, their rotations, the location of their base - ,"

"Come with me," Naruto stood suddenly and beckoned for Sasuke to sit up.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"I need to show you something," his brows furrowed and he cocked his head in the direction of the moonlight streaming through the tent flaps. Begrudgingly, Sasuke rolled onto his good arm and off of the gurney. With a practice he had adopted from his time in the palace infirmary, he managed to stuff the hem of his tunic into the waistband of his pants with one hand so that he might appear halfway decent. Gingerly, he straightened his elbow, letting his bandaged wrist hang limply at his side, wincing until the pain became a constant throb. Naruto waited for Sasuke to find his footing and adopt a steady pace forward. Though he could have strode ahead, he measured his steps to match Sasuke's weary gait and even offered his shoulder for support, but his brother refused. He was ever as stubborn as Naruto remembered from their childhood. Sasuke had always carried a sense of pride that Naruto had slowly come to share. It was that same pride that had been a mark of the Uchiha name, a mark that he was born with, but one that Naruto had adopted. In turn, it seemed Sasuke had, albeit unknowingly, developed the Uzumaki's sense of humility, though neither brother was one to be humbled so easily. It was these traits in particular that Naruto found their bond to be reinforced by, and so there was a weight of responsibility, a measure of accountability to challenge each other and be challenged - a balance of equals.

As they stepped through the threshold of the makeshift ward, Sasuke thought the image of a military encampment nothing like the stories he'd been told in his childhood. Soldiers milled about, listless and possessed by a rumination he had never witnessed before. Whatever conflict lay beyond their camp had not only breached their walls, but their spirits as well. He remembered the tales woven by his brother, the tales of his brief moments at the front, the moments before the war had consumed not only his life, but his clan's too. Itachi had spoken of his fellow soldiers like an extension of himself. Sasuke had imagined a camaraderie of a family made, not born. A belonging forged in purpose and honor.

But he saw none of that.

The dark of the night bled around them, encompassing them so that not even their fires provided much light. Then, suddenly, from above, a flash of sparks sailed through the sky with a whistle. Sasuke ducked expectantly, but then saw Naruto laughing at his reaction. With a gentle nudge, he pointed upward as the sparks exploded outward with a bang.

It was not an aerial assault as he had thought. Sasuke straightened himself, looking to the sky as another flash lit up the night. His eyes narrowed as the sparks flared.

"Fireworks?"

"From the village," Naruto affirmed, "They started not long ago, but it has been every night since."

"What are they doing?"

Naruto shrugged.

"To lead my men there would be too much of a risk. Since the Akatsuki have cut off our trade supplies with the villages, we have been unable to get close. Their spies would recognize us too easily," he turned his despondent gaze on Sasuke, "The retaliation on the townspeople - and our camp - was too harsh. Even now, we are still struggling to rebuild with what they have left us."

Sasuke listened intently, but continued to watch the lights that danced above them.

"They celebrate as though they have won the war," he mused.

"Then, they are taunting us," Naruto scowled.

"A bold effort."

"I would not put it past them."

"It would be too big of a gamble to take so many men," Sasuke remarked, eyes flicking to the soldiers around him, "They could be expecting us. I will have the rest of the troop watch the road and secure our position in the trees."

"You should not go in your condition," Naruto reiterated, incensed by his brother's stubborn attitude.

"I will be fine," he said stiffly, "And I will not go alone. I will take one of the men that came with us through the town so that we may observe the people - the villagers will not know our faces."

Naruto nodded hesitantly, slowly conceding to the fact that he would be unable to sway his brother.

"We have civilian clothes in the barracks," he gestured in that direction, "What will you do about your arm?"

"It is not so bad," as though in objection, a sharp pain ran from his wrist to his elbow. He closed his fingers around his forearm, cutting off his circulation with a hiss, "The nurse gave me a salve. I have had worse."

"Have you?" Naruto cocked a brow.

"No," Sasuke shook his head, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. Naruto's laughter caught the attention of Kakashi who had been passing by and now wandered towards their commotion.

"How are you feeling, Sasuke?"

"Fine, Sir."

"Fine?" Kakashi did not hide his surprise as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I was just telling my brother I am ready to infiltrate the first village tonight."

"I see," Kakashi nodded, his one exposed eye narrowing as he regarded Sasuke, "And what do you make of this?"

"I do not know," his gaze lifted to the sky once more, "But I intend to find out."

"Might I make a suggestion?" Kakashi asked, but barely had Sasuke nodded before he was gesturing towards Suigetsu who had quite obviously made himself comfortable beside some of the other soldiers. At once, Sasuke became livid.

"Why is he still here?" he questioned through gritted teeth.

"What would you have us do with him?" Kakashi asked, a mirthful smile on his face.

"Turn him loose. Let us be rid of him."

"Who is he?" Naruto asked.

"A thief," Sasuke spat.

"He is a good warrior," Kakashi protested lightly, "He saved your life. And he has no loyalties."

"That is precisely what makes him dangerous," Sasuke countered, but Kakashi shrugged, "He could turn on us for the right price."

"He does not seem the type."

"How could you know?" Sasuke narrowed his eyes as Suigetsu caught his gaze.

"We have had many conversations since he joined our party, at length," Kakashi nodded, peering over at Sasuke, "He is only looking for shelter and food - a purpose, even."

"And you believe him?"

"He is skilled with a bow and arrow, well versed in tactics of stealth, and surprisingly adept with a sword," He cocked a humorous brow at Sasuke, "We should not discount him so lightly. One man could turn the tide of this war."

Sasuke screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep, steadying breath before he opened them again.

"You want me to take him to the villages."

"He would be a stranger and he does not act like a soldier. They would have no reason to suspect him."

"An asset," Naruto offered, but quickly shut his mouth when he saw the scowl on Sasuke's face.

He grit his teeth, but nodded.

"If he is caught, it leaves us exposed. He will not hesitate to turn our plans over to the Akatsuki," he warned, but Kakashi only grinned.

"You had best watch his back then."

* * *

Sasuke sat beside the blazing fire with his troops, donned in plain linens, as they poured over the map before them. It was a small group of soldiers he commanded that night, some of whom were even younger than Sasuke, or at least as young as he was when he had arrived at the palace. Their somber faces were lit by the soft glow of the flame, but when he looked to Suigetsu, he could see a flash of excitement burning in the man's eyes. A bloodlust, perhaps.

"There are three roads leading into the village," Sasuke began, "I want two men at each entrance. You will find the best coverage in the trees," he gave a begrudged sigh before looking at Suigetsu, "He and I will go around on foot. We will scout from the ground and regroup with the rest of you once we have some information. It is imperative that you are not seen by the villagers or the Akatsuki. Is that understood?"

A procession of nods went around the fire.

"When we return here, we will devise our plan of attack," he looked once more at the men around him, "This is what we have trained for," as he continued, he brought himself to his feet, "Let us move out."

The soldiers stood and followed in his steps as he led them to the edge of the camp. When they breached the barricades, Sasuke caught sight of Naruto running upon them.

"Oi, teme!" He called out and Sasuke smirked as he looked back, "Don't get yourself killed!"

"Hn," he chuckled to himself, then yelled back, "Stay out of trouble!"

Naruto made a crude gesture with his hands before running back to the barracks.

"Your brother?" Suigetsu asked as he matched his pace with Sasuke's.

"Yes," he responded stiffly.

"I would hardly have known."

"You do _not_ know," Sasuke reminded him sternly. Silenced, Suigetsu put a measured distance between them as they embarked along the trail. The cover of the trees, the dark of night, and the sounds of the forest aided their journey onward. A reverent silence settled over the soldiers as they marched in unison. Meanwhile, Sasuke's heart hammered in his chest harder with every step he took. This _is_ what they had trained for, what he had trained _them_ for. Now, their success hinged on his abilities as a leader. Those five months could have been five years and it would not have prepared him for the near crippling weight of responsibility he was shouldering in that moment. He could not know what lay ahead of them, what lay in wait in the shadows around them, but every choice, every decision, every outcome, belonged to him. While such a notion was enough to make the greatest warrior into a frightened coward, he found his resolve to succeed only grow. He would not allow hinderances, nor mistakes, nor failures. His regiment were stalwart in their duty, but opposing them was the unknown and in the balance hung an entire empire; in that, he supposed there was no better indoctrination to his role as general.

As they approached the village, his soldiers broke off to their factions and diverged from the clear path ahead. Only Suigetsu and Sasuke remained steady on their course. In the near distance, they could see the light beckoning them forth. The thrumming beat of drums and the gentle chorus of strings wafted towards them. The further they proceeded, the louder and brighter the fireworks became as they continued to alight the sky above them. Suigetsu seemed to wait for Sasuke's indication that they would continue, so Sasuke threw him a questioning look.

"I follow you," Suigetsu answered simply. As perturbed as Sasuke was by his words, he brushed them off and kept walking. Passing through the threshold of the village entrance, they saw the path before them packed by the townspeople spilling out of the shops that flanked the road. Barely could they take a step forward without nearly running into someone. Drunkards stumbled and dancers twirled, musicians played and children chased, poets belted and bystanders cheered. All around them celebrations raged and the noise was enough to drown out the remark Suigetsu made as he stared in awe.

"We should move off the road," Sasuke shouted and Suigetsu followed him towards the side of a teahouse out of the way of the throng of revelers.  
"Do you think a change of plans might be in order?" Even with the volume of his voice, Suigetsu found himself leaning in close to be heard. As much as it pained him to agree with such a man, Sasuke said,

"Stay by my side. We will visit at one of the shops, but only for a moment. We can resume our search after."

Suigetsu nodded and pointed towards a lodge just a bit further into the town.

"I could use a drink," he cajoled. Sasuke opened his mouth for a sharp retort, but held his tongue.

"Yes," he said begrudgingly, "So could I."

They made their way to the lodge and pushed inside, finding an empty corner beside the bar all the way at the back. The host, too busy to pay them any proper attention, dropped a carafe and two small saucers before them. Suigetsu was quick to pour their drinks, but Sasuke let his eyes wander around the bustling lodge first. Upon discerning no immediate threat, he took up his saucer and drank.

"Aside from that woman," Suigetsu nodded briefly in her direction and Sasuke noted how fixated she seemed to be on his counterpart, "Not a single person in here has looked at us."

"It can not be coincidence," Sasuke said quietly, but Suigetsu was preoccupied with the woman on the other end of the room. He grabbed his arm as Suigetsu started to stand, wincing at the pain the action caused him, "No. We are only here to observe."

"Could you not allow me this indulgence?" Suigetsu griped, "I can not remember the last time I felt a woman's touch."

"We are not here for her," Sasuke hissed.

"We should be," Suigetsu poured them another round and they drank together, "If I could but be the cup that touches her lips."

"You fancy yourself a playwright now," Sasuke scowled at the man beside him.

"I might have been," he grinned, finally tearing his eyes away, "In another life."

"Words do me no good, lest you can charm your way out of a fight," Sasuke seethed, "I need a warrior, not a man of ill repute. As it stands, I fail to see your use to our cause and your continued occupancy with my regiment remains a mystery to me."

"I am a man of various trades," he smirked, "I carry more than a sword at my hip and a quiver on my back. While I relish in a bloody battle, sometimes words can do more harm - and more good."

"Hn," Sasuke stewed over the sentiment, deciphering what he was finding to be a modicum of truth to it; the man was more than he might have pegged him to be. Still, he could not fathom he possessed more skill or knowledge than the soldiers who had pledged their lives to protecting the Emperor's family. There was more to be said for loyalty than trade, yet this man had yet to display even an inkling of where his priorities were placed. He might have saved Sasuke in the forest, but it would take more than that to sway him.

Suigetsu had nearly drained the contents of the carafe before he commented quietly,

"This does not look like an oppressed village."

"No." Sasuke agreed.

"A trap perhaps?" He suggested.

"Why waste such effort?" Sasuke wondered aloud. All around them, music and chatter continued to clash together in a striking symphony of ceremony.

"To catch us by surprise."

"Then we have been caught," Sasuke muttered, "For I do not know what to make of this."

"Make an evening of it," Suigetsu raised the almost empty decanter and filled their saucers once more. Sasuke reached for his hesitantly. His arm had begun to shake from the overuse and so he switched hands, then cast a cautionary look at the companion beside him.

"Hn."

"I have presumed that while you are a man of oft few words, the complexities of your innermost reflections are those which few could begin to understand," Suigetsu smirked to himself, "Would I be correct?"

"I do not purport any such notions about myself," Sasuke responded flatly, "I am no more than any other man and certainly less than the greater few."

_Less than a man, less than a person, less to be loved._

"Such humility," he quirked a brow, "For a general."

"I have been a general for far less time than I have been a man."

"What would warrant such supposition, then?"

"You speak so informally to someone you have barely met."

"Have you ever met a thief with proper manners?"

"I have not known of many thieves," Sasuke lowered his eyes to the saucer in his hand, "And certainly none that I have come to meet."

"Then we have that in common, for I have never met a general."

"So you were always a thief then?"

"As far as I can remember," Suigetsu tossed back another drink, "That bunch of bandits were the only ones crazy enough to have me."

"I suppose you take us for much the same then."

"It is not so bad to be crazy," he laughed, "I have yet to find such peace in sanity."

Sasuke paused, the saucer poised at his lips, before a smirk spread over his face and he chuckled lightly.

"Hn," he drank again, finding himself stumped by the man's words yet again, then said, "Let us be done here. We should search the rest of the village, see if we can find anything."

Suigetsu reluctantly set down his drink as Sasuke placed their payment on the bar. Squeezing through the crowded lodge, they finally emerged back on the path that wound through the town. Rows of modest homes had swung their doors open to allow for the comings and goings of all neighbors. Meanwhile, in the street itself, the villagers continued to gather to dance and sing. With such a small community, every joyful citizen's acquaintance seemed to be made all the more familiar by their celebrations.

As they traversed the only road that cut through the town, passing under the billowing fireworks, they remained a good distance from the crowds, watching and waiting for something that never appeared.

"If they were here, I think we might have seen them by now," Suigetsu proposed.

"They could be hiding," Sasuke said as they passed by a woman perched atop a dais outside a shop crooning a jubilant melody, "They could be any one of the people here."

"Might they have spotted us already then?"

"No," Sasuke shook his head, eyes sweeping over the path before them. They had already scoured the length of the village and found themselves back at the beginning of the road they had taken in, "We would not be here if they had."

* * *

"What is the matter?" Sasori questioned as he knelt atop a slim branch just beyond the military encampment. Obito sat beside him, his gaze settled on a point in the distance, a point that Sasori could not see.

"Nothing," he answered rigidly, tearing himself away from the man with one eye, "Report back to the others and send word to Orochimaru of their numbers."

"What about the villages?"

"What about them?" Obito faced his prodigy, daring him to challenge his orders.

"Are we just to stand by while they reclaim control?"

"There is nothing to control but civilians," he said harshly, "Civilians who can not fight. Those territories never mattered to Lord Orochimaru except to syphon the Emperor's resources at the front."

Sasori nodded stiffly.

"And you?"

"I will keep watch."

"But - ,"

Obito fixed him with a cold gaze.

" _I will keep watch_ ," he hissed through his teeth. A contentious moment passed between them as Sasori curled his fists. This was not the moment to dispute him; he still had much left to prove. Obito turned back to the camp and spat, "Go."

Biting his tongue, Sasori stood and leapt to another branch before dropping to the ground. He cast a look up to Obito who was now concealed by the thick leaves swaying in the soft wind, then took off.

Up in the tree, Obito rested a hand on the trunk beside him and leaned forward. He narrowed his gaze as he searched for the one eyed man again. Soldiers mingled in small groups across the grounds, huddled as they rejoiced in their renewed hope. Their ranks bolstered, they no doubt felt that they now stood a chance against the Akatsuki. But Orochimaru would prove them wrong.

With a frustrated grunt, Obito raised himself to his feet and climbed to another branch higher up. His view improved, he could easily pick out the coif of silver hair of the rigid figure standing beside one of the many fires. He seemed to be conversing with the soldiers sitting before him, throwing his head back with a laugh at some remark Obito could not make out. The rage that had for so long been left to fester in his gut was now boiling as it rushed through his veins. The man was laughing, the man _could_ laugh, while she had been left to rot in the ground for all these years.

But Obito never left her alone for long. In fact, his time spent waiting at the front for the Emperor's army was perhaps the greatest absence he had ever taken from his visitations to her. The flowers he had last picked had no doubt died, but the shrine he had built in her honor would hold against any manner of weathering. What he truly worried for was his neglect of her memory. In those instances, when he felt her slipping away and he could not recall the cadence of her laughter or the brilliance of her smile, he would turn to his master. Orochimaru had gifted him with the power to recall her from the deepest recesses of his mind, to manifest her once more, to ensure her longevity for as long as Obito could breathe. And on the day he ceased to be, he would join her once more. Eternally.

Until then, he had a duty to her. He narrowed his eyes as he followed Kakashi's figure until he had disappeared into the shadows. A duty he intended to fulfill.

* * *

Sasuke lay on the gurney as the nurse redressed his bandages. The salve she'd reapplied had begun to set in and what had started as a pulsating ache, now dulled to a tolerable throb. Naruto and Kakashi sat beside him, brows drawn into a deep furrow.

"This makes no sense," Naruto muttered, "That village has been locked down for over a year. There were curfews, ordinances, punishments for fraternization - ,"

"I saw no guards, no cloaks - had I asked them, I would wager that not a single one of them would have known the name Akatsuki," Sasuke shook his head, perplexed, "And if they did, it did not appear it would cause them much trouble to hear such a name at all."

"Perhaps we move on to the next province already," Kakashi suggested, reciting his thoughts aloud, "It is not enough to ascertain our situation from only the one village," he appeared bemused to Sasuke, "But I leave that to you, _General_."

With a pointed look and coy smile, he rose from his seat and left the tent promptly without waiting for Sasuke's answer. It seemed of little import to Kakashi and the trust thus imparted on Sasuke by such indifference caused an unsettling chill to run down his spine. It was his responsibility, his choice, his decision, his outcome. Sasuke watched Kakashi go, contemplating his options until Naruto spoke again,

"We should brace for an attack. You should not leave for the next village just yet. We are still preparing our supplies to establish our new post - it leaves us vulnerable; we may need you here," his fists clenched tightly at his knees, "In case they retaliate."

Sasuke was pensive for a moment. Naruto might be correct, but they could not cower at the camp while they waited for an attack that may not come. Something was not right here, but what he could not yet ascertain. He supposed he would not be able to until they had gathered more information as Kakashi had said.

Sasuke remained silent until the nurse left.

"Suigetsu and I will go," he determined, "The rest of the men will stay here. We cannot delay our mission even if there is a threat of attack."

"Sasuke - ,"

"It is my decision," he assured Naruto, and himself, "Trust that it is not one I make lightly."

His brother nodded steadily, watching him carefully.

"I do trust you," he said finally, the hint of a grin pulling at his lips, "I always have."

Sasuke could not help but smile in turn; he had spent so long alone at the palace, that he had almost forgotten how it felt to have Naruto at his side. There was an unspoken confidence placed within each other and it assured that, regardless of the circumstances, there was somebody to catch them if they fell. After Naruto had left for the front, it had taken months for Sasuke to adapt to the distressing fact that he would no longer be roused in the middle of the night by his brother's incoherent ramblings as he recalled the ramen Kushina used to cook for them. In time, though, he _had_ adapted to that, and more, convincing himself that he was better off on his own, guarding his own secrets and protecting himself from the threat of familiarity.

Now they were together again and he would have to unlearn the loneliness that had for so long been his companion. But Naruto would help him. He always had.

* * *

Sasori descended the cracked stone stairs that led to the tunnels beneath the forest. A vast network of ruins lay under the surface of the earth above - a piece of history lost to time, but a fitting hideout for the Akatsuki soldiers laying in wait to strike. As he followed the winding path deeper into the burrow, what had once been a deathly silence became slowly permeated by the quiet chatter of his fellow clan members.

Finally, he found himself at the monolithic chamber that housed their sleeping quarters. An array of cots littered the floor, barely a foot's space between them, with many a restless soldier seated atop them. Yet, as he entered the room, a contemplative hush fell over the men. He and Obito had been absent from the rest of their clan as they awaited the arrival of the Emperor's reinforcements, seizing control over an abandoned well house not far from the soldiers' camp. The room seemed almost to hold its breath as they anticipated confirmation of what his return to their base inevitably meant. Before he gave them the satisfaction of what they so desperately wanted to hear, he stepped to the side to address Orochimaru's herald. In a hurried whisper, he said,

"Inform our Lord that they have arrived and we are ready to attack," he leaned closer as he continued, "A hundred men, perhaps more."

The messenger's eyes swept the room; they had more than enough.

"I will leave promptly and return when I have his word."

Sasori nodded, then turned to face the others. He raised his arms victoriously, a broad, sinister smile overtaking his face.

"Brothers! Our time has come!"

The entire hall erupted in exultation at the news, every man rising to his feet with excitement. Yet, in a far corner of the hall, Deidara slunk away, out of sight.

* * *

The little bit of sleep Sasuke had managed to achieve was soiled by the unpleasant return of his nightmarish memories and he found himself rising from his gurney just before dawn. He stepped out into the tepid air and breathed deeply, calming his nerves. He started on a path with no direction, but what he had hoped might be an opportunity for respite was quickly soiled by the approach of a spirited Suigetsu. Sasuke mumbled a curse quietly to himself.

"Are you always so pleasant in the mornings?"

"What do you want?" Sasuke asked curtly, his gaze cast towards the road beyond the camp.

"What are you offering?" he retorted.

"Hn."

Suigetsu followed Sasuke's line of sight.

"Are you thinking of leaving again?"

"What?!" Sasuke turned on him sharply, affronted, "I would never desert my post."

"Freedom is a choice," Suigetsu laughed lightly, raising his hands in protest, "I chose my freedom."

"You were captured," Sasuke sneered derisively.

"And given the option to leave."

"By who?"

"By Kakashi-san."

Sasuke set his jaw tight and averted his eyes. He looked back out to the horizon, to the sun that peaked over the trees. Perhaps she was watching it rise, too. Perhaps she was sitting on her bench by the willow tree, looking out over the lake, and waiting for him to greet her.

"And yet you stayed. Why?"

"I told you I am a man of many trades."

"What could you possibly - ,"

"Sasuke!"

They whipped around at the sound of Naruto's voice. He sprinted towards them with a wide grin.

"I see you have made a new friend," he said jokingly, nudging his brother as he came upon them.

"Hardly," Sasuke said stiffly, "It seems I have attracted a parasite I can not rid myself of."

"I resent nothing of that statement," Suigetsu replied with a biting snark.

"If he insults you, it means he has grown fond of you," Naruto quipped, then added, "I would know best of all, right, Sasuke?"

"In that case, I find myself quite flattered," Suigetsu remarked and Sasuke scowled.

"What is it?" He questioned abruptly.

"Breakfast," Naruto beckoned them in the direction of the other soldiers.

"I am not hungry," Sasuke said flippantly.

"Good. Then you will not have to stomach it," Naruto grabbed his arm, "Come on."

* * *

Sasuke swirled the gruel in his bowl, his already absent appetite soiling further. Meanwhile, Naruto and Suigetsu seemed not to mind the slop they had been served; he wagered that she had spoiled him in many ways at the palace, including in his perception of what passed for food these days. All those well cooked meals had only been made the more pleasant by her presence, too.

It was not new to eat without her, for he had been doing so in his effort to distance himself from her while he still lived at the palace, but yet again he was reminded of all that he was missing out on. He could hardly call his decision a mistake - it was a necessity surely - but everything he had done to her, with her before that had been. It had been a mistake to give into desire, to give into hope, to give into each other. If he had never known what it was like to be with her, he would never have had to feel the pain of being without her. The pain that consumed him now.

"What is it you do in your free time here?" Suigetsu asked Naruto as they sat around a burnt out fire from the previous night, "I dare say I might expire from sheer boredom."

Naruto laughed heartily before shoveling another spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

"Think of home, mostly," he said somewhat solemnly through a hefty bite, "But it has been so long, I do not know if my thoughts are memories or a fantasy I have conjured to make myself feel better."

"There is nothing wrong with fantasy," Suigetsu chuckled with a toss of his shoulders, "How was life at the palace?"

"I can scarcely remember," Naruto squinted as he looked to the sky, "It feels like another lifetime. I can recall the people - at least, most of them."

"You mean the women?" Suigetsu winked at him and Naruto shook his head with a smile.

"Only one. The only one that matters, anyway."

"Ah."

"It is important to find distractions out here," Naruto said softly, "It can be quite easy to fall into our grief if we are not careful."

Sasuke's throat went dry and he set his bowl to the side.

"I have never had a home to think of," Suigetsu said simply, the admission clearly causing him no such distress as he continued on, "Or a woman, but that is of no consequence. It would take such a woman for me to ignore the many whose paths I have crossed with."

"But it will be a grand thing when you find her," Naruto assured him, "You will know there is no other like her."

"Excuse me," Sasuke stood sharply and stalked off, away from the clusters of soldiers. The din of chatter subsided as he wandered back to the edge of the encampment. He found it to be mostly deserted, save the few scouts that took watch, a solitude he was grateful for. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the parchment and unfolded it hastily. His eyes caressed the words in a harried frenzy, resting at no one spot, except her name. He held the edges of the tattered page, gripping it between his fingers as though he meant to tear it apart, but he could not.

Not yet.

"What is that?" Naruto came upon him suddenly, peering over his shoulder, and Sasuke crumpled the note and stuffed it into his pocket swiftly.

"Nothing."

"That looked like a woman's handwriting," the teasing lilt in Naruto's voice was almost too much for Sasuke's patience.

"Hn," he muttered flippantly.

"It is, isn't it?"

"Surely you have something better to do," Sasuke whipped around to glare at him.

"Than tease my brother?" Naruto scoffed, "How could I pass on the opportunity?"

Sasuke grimaced, his hands clenching tightly.

"Tell me, what is she like?"

"Quiet," Sasuke snapped.

"Oh, you must fancy her," the grin on Naruto's face was unbearable; Sasuke turned his head.

"There is nothing to speak of," he grumbled, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Sasuke," Naruto began, contrite for any discomfort he might have caused, "I did not mean - ,"

"Put it out of your mind," he shrugged and Naruto nodded slowly. An uncomfortable silence ensued, so Naruto cleared his throat and said,

"Come on, then, help me prepare the supplies for the next camp before you leave tonight."

Sasuke clenched his jaw and tightened his fist to quell the tremor that ran through him.

"Fine," he conceded.

* * *

That night, Sasuke and Suigetsu ventured alone into the next village. There was scarcely a difference in distance from the last one they had visited and so they proceeded once more on foot, accompanied only by the dark that spread around them. Suigetsu, it seemed, was becoming accustomed to Sasuke's mannerisms and allowed silence to reign for the duration of their short journey - a decision that had not gone unnoticed by the latter.

As they approached the village, large, towering wooden gates appeared in their view, swung wide open as if in reception of their arrival. Much like the last town, they were met again with a riotous cacophony of fireworks and festivities. They paused just short of crossing into the village, reticence causing them to halt.

"Perhaps they knew we were coming," Suigetsu cackled at his own joke, but Sasuke wondered if maybe he was right. What if the townspeople had been warned? What if the Akatsuki had spread their ruse to this village and the next? What they were attempting to perpetuate with such a large display, Sasuke could not say. At least, not yet, but he resolved to find out.

"Let us get this over with," he said gruffly. Suigetsu nodded reverently and repeated,

"I follow you."

Sasuke forged their path forward, the cacophony of music crescendoing with every step that brought them closer. The village was alive with color, symphony, and song. A group of rowdy drunkards clinked their goblets as Sasuke strode past them without a second glance, while Suigetsu offered them a friendly smile and bowed in their direction.

Lanterns lined the path before them and shops opened their doors to the many patrons that waited just outside.

"I am beginning to think we may be missing out on something," Suigetsu remarked as a man shoved a plate of dango towards him. He shook his head forlornly.

"Indeed," Sasuke agreed, pausing in his steps to look at the revelry taking place in the town square. A large wooden stage sat in the center as men in flamboyant masks danced atop it.

"I dare say I have never seen such splendor before in my life," Suigetsu's eyes wandered over to a group of courtesans talking excitedly outside their brothel. They all leered at the pair of men as they passed.

"Is that what you would call it?" Sasuke asked, turning his gaze to the colorfully lit rooftops. Above them, the fireworks kept on, coating the village in a warm glow.

"And what would you call it?"

"Deception."

"I could ask around," Suigetsu winked at a passing geisha who peered at him with a coquettish smile, "Find out what the locals know."

"And risk our exposure?" Sasuke hissed.

"No more than they risk drawing such attentions."

"That is not for us to decide."

"No," Suigetsu reminded him with a smirk, "It is for you."

Sasuke grit his teeth, then looked over with a scowl.

"Fine. But do not get distracted."

"I will not make promises I can not keep."

He started to roam away when a firm hand clasped his shoulder. Sasuke fixed him with a deathly glare.

"I do not care where you go or what you do. I would remind you I have yet to find a use for you," he narrowed his eyes, mouth pulled to a thin, displeased line, "As it stands, we have established Kakashi-san thinks otherwise. I suggest you prove him right."

Suigetsu waited until Sasuke released him to speak, watching him with a peaked curiosity that unsettled the rigid soldier.

"You are quite unlike any other man I have met," he mused, folding his arms over his chest in scrutiny.

"Am I to take that as a compliment?"

"Hardly," Suigetsu scoffed, "I find you to be more abrasive than anyone whose path I have yet had the displeasure of crossing."

"Good," Sasuke sneered, "Return here before the moon meets that tree or I will leave you behind."

With that, he turned on his heel, cloak swaying with the brisk movement as he traveled deeper into the village. The merriment proceeded around him. A group of women danced to the beat of the taiko drums, while a geisha sat amidst a chattering crowd playing the koto. Children ran about freely, careening around Sasuke as they wielded colorful dango sticks as though they were weapons.

Sasuke turned on the spot, surveying the many townspeople that surrounded him. He did not desire to approach any of them, not the raucous drunks or the concubines that beckoned him forth, nor the shopkeepers whose hands were too full to even care for the crowds that filled their modest spaces.

"A weary traveller," a soft voice wafted his way as a young woman circled him, "Exhausted from his long day's journey. Have you come to our little town to seek your repose? Or, perhaps, to sample the company?"

She settled before him, striking blue eyes fixing him under her stare. Her painted lips pursed and she tossed her raven hair over her shoulder as she brought her fan level with her neck to cool herself.

"I am only passing through," Sasuke said flatly, dropping his gaze to her, "It seems I have caught you in the midst of a celebration. What is the occasion?"

The woman started instantly, whatever guiles she had attempted to impose upon him disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Have you not heard?" She balked at him, "The Akatsuki have ordered a retreat!"

Sasuke blanched.

"What?"

"Yes!" She gripped his arm staunchly and if not for his shock, he would have brushed her off, "A full retreat!"

"That," Sasuke fumbled over his words, "That is not possible."

"We have been set free!" She exclaimed, sweeping her hand out to encompass all the merrymaking around them, "They left in droves - all of them - made off with our supplies, as well, but it matters not now. Without their threat, our trade has resumed."

"But the other villages - ,"

"All liberated," she beamed, "Come! You must celebrate with us."

"No," Sasuke shook himself out of his thoughts and carefully pried his wrist away from the woman's grasp. He was grateful for the effects of the salve in that moment as he could barely feel the resonance of pain she had unintentionally incited, "Thank you, but I am only passing through."

"On to where?" Her lashes fluttered as she gazed upon him, "Surely there could be nothing so pressing as the celebration of our freedom."

"Because you can not see them, it does not mean they are not there," Sasuke said quietly, casting a glance over his shoulder.

"Are you familiar with the Akatsuki, then?" She asked curiously, advancing on him slowly.

"No," he took a step back as her lips curled into a coquettish smile, "Excuse me."

Sasuke turned sharply, knocking into a stout man carrying a tray of steaming soup and tumbled with him to the ground. Bowls clattered around them, splashing their contents on the unfortunate persons nearby.

"I am terribly sorry, I did not see you - ,"

The large man cut Sasuke off with a wave of his hand and an unwavering smile.

"There is no need for apologies," he said joyously as Sasuke got to his feet. He held his hand out to offer the man help who took it with a pleased smile, "It is no life lost."

Sasuke nodded slowly as the man righted himself.

"Come," he continued, "Won't you join us for the feast?"

"No, I must," Sasuke stared blankly at the people around him - they laughed jovially, talked openly, and danced endlessly. He bowed slightly, "I must go. Thank you."

Swiftly, he turned away from them and started frantically back through the town. Fireworks cracked above him and music drifted around him - it was near deafening. An assault of sights and sounds and people barraged him, until he ran behind a small thatched hut separate from all the activity. Safely in the shadows, he took a deep breath to steady himself and leaned against one of the walls as he turned his eyes to the stars. If what she had said was true, if what he witnessed in these villages was real, if the Akatsuki were gone. . .

All those years living in fear and hatred of the people that had torn his clan apart, that had killed his family and forced him into hiding. All those years training, waiting, yearning for the moment he might face them on the battlefield. All those years seeking to one day claim vengeance for his family. All those years surviving in anonymity. . .

If the Akatsuki were gone. . . Then the war was over.

The war was over.

The war was _over_.

Sasuke trembled as he forced himself to stay upright, as he forced the tears back, as he forced the howl he so desperately wished to unleash down into the darkness. His unsteady fingers closed around his ears as he bowed his head and shut his eyes. If not war, if not vengeance, if not redemption, then what was his purpose? Perhaps he had not realized the gravity of his mission, or at least not comprehended just how much significance he himself had placed upon it, but either way he knew he had lost something. What else defined him but his lineage, his past, his burdens?

He had travelled all this way - and for what? For glory? For freedom? Sasuke forced a whinging breath from his lungs as he realized what this would mean.

He reached a hand to his chest, feeling for the parchment and key - but it was not there. His heart stopped and his eyes snapped open to dart frantically about his dark surroundings. He fell to his knees, hands scrambling for something, anything, for that last piece of her, but he found only dirt and grass.

Shooting to his feet, he retraced his steps, eyes cast to the ground. He tore through the frenzied revelers until he found himself back at the shop of the man with the soup. He scoured the space at his feet, searching for a glint of the key or a hint of -

"Were you looking for this?" The painted woman appeared before him again, brandishing the folded parchment between her middle and index fingers, "I thought you might come back for it."

Sasuke extended his hand towards her expectantly, but she pursed her lips and dropped her eyes to the paper. A respectful sobriety fell over her as she thought for a moment.

"You are a lucky man," she mused, stroking her thumb over the parchment, "But I trust you know that."

"What would possess you to say so?" He swallowed harshly, a slight tremor developing in the tips of his fingers the longer he waited for the woman to hand the letter over.

"She loves you very much," the woman said solemnly, "Too much for words."

With a subtle simper, she dropped the parchment in Sasuke's hand and closed his fingers around it tightly.

"You would do well to keep that safe," reaching up to the hair that sat atop her head in a neat coiffure, she untied the knot keeping the strands together. The woman lowered her hands, sliding a silky black ribbon between her fingers and extended it out for him, "Take this," Sasuke gave her an odd look and she uttered a tittering laugh, "For the key. You should not keep the two together - if you lose one, you will still have the other. But if you lose both, she is lost to you forever."

Sasuke pinched one end of the ribbon, pulling it from her slackened grip. As he smoothed the creases in the soft fabric, he caught her gaze.

"Thank you."

She nodded simply and bowed before him.

"We should all be so lucky," a wistful smile graced her lips and then she turned away from him.

"Wait!" Sasuke called after her. She gave pause, tilting her head in his direction, "The Akatsuki - are they truly gone?"

Her brows furrowed as she studied him.

"Why do you seek them?"

"I do not," he said adamantly, "I seek only to put an end to their oppression."

"Then your mission is complete," she faced him once more, "It has been months since we have seen their kind here. On the day they left, they took everything - our supplies, our livestock, even our wagons and horses. They poisoned our wells and left us with no means for fresh water - ,"

"Poison?"

"Yes. A terrible substance - it causes visions, fits of rage and fear," she shook her head, "We had to seal them off when one of the children died. A few of our men risked their lives traveling on foot trying to get to the other villages for food and water, and that is when we learned they had left there, too."

"There has been no word from them?"

"None whatsoever."

"Are you aware of the camp just beyond your village?" Sasuke pointed in the direction of the gates.

"The soldiers camp?" She appeared confused as she asked slowly, "Have they not all returned home? Has the Emperor not declared victory?"

"They have no notions of your freedom."

"Are you a soldier, then?" Her eyes widened as she took him in again and anger coiled around her words as she spat, "Why have you come now? What good do you do us here?! Our people have died while your men - ,"

Sasuke clamped a hand over her mouth and wrestled her into the shadows behind the soup shop.

"Quiet. They can not know we are here."

The woman tore herself free and glared sharply at him.

"They are _not_ here, because you are far too late. You are of no service to us now. Return to your men and tell them their duty is done!"

With that, she stormed off, blending back into the throng of joyous partisans and leaving Sasuke to linger in the darkness. His mind churned and his heart raced the longer he stood still.

The war was over.

He could return home now, to the palace. He could inform the Emperor of their victory. He could see her again.

Or. . .

Or, he could leave. He could run. He could run far away, far from his memories, far from his mistakes, far from his misery.

He could be free. Forever.

Sasuke tightened his fist around the letter, the key, and the ribbon, then set off towards the center of the town. Suigetsu waited impatiently for him beneath a large oak tree that spilled into the road between the shops.

"Where were you?" He grumbled, "I have had to deny myself the company of many a gracious hosts."

Sasuke scowled as he approached him.

"What did you find?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, "There is no trace of them here - at least, none to suggest they still possess power over this village."

"Nor the next," Sasuke affirmed.  
"They told you the same then?"

Sasuke nodded and looked towards the gates.

"We should return to the camp and report to the others."

"Very well. I follow you," Suigetsu swept an arm out in front of him and stepped aside. Sasuke strode forward, adopting a brisk pace and Suigetsu stayed close behind. It was not until they had emerged from the village and found themselves halfway to the camp that he slowed their pace. He had been so eager to leave, but was no more enthusiastic to rush back to the other soldiers. He needed to think, he needed to breathe. Even if only for a moment.

"What do you make of this?" Suigetsu asked curiously, no longer content in the silence.

"I can not say for certain," Sasuke said, irritated by his own confusion as well as Suigetsu's inquiry.

"Come now," he bared his teeth in a wide grin, "Surely you can not be fooled so easily."

"If I am a fool of anything it is not this," Sasuke hissed, turning on him sharply, "But why would I discuss such things with the likes of you? The only reason you are still with us is because Kakashi-san has found you to be a most amusing pet - a decision I still have yet to comprehend. But make no mistake, your presence here is reliant solely on his fascination with you. It is certainly not on the merit of your character or strength as a warrior."

Suigetsu waited patiently for his tirade to end, then asked cheekily,

"And how is your arm?" Off Sasuke's look, he said quickly, "It was an unfair fight, you should not be so sore about it," then, with a coy smile, he added, "Would you like to know why I am still here?"

Sasuke considered him for longer than a breath. The man was an enigma, an oddity that he had neither the care nor the patience to begin to understand. Yet, it seemed this man already understood him. But, stubborn as he was, Sasuke refused to take the bait.

He responded curtly instead, his eyes fixing on the road ahead, "Let us return to the camp, there is much to discuss."

* * *

Obito straightened himself as he heard Sasori approaching, tearing his eyes away from the encampment to greet him.

"How is the clan?"

"Eager," Sasori came to a stop beside a tree, propping himself against its trunk.

"As we all are," Obito waved his hand dismissively, "Our patience will be rewarded."

Sasori nodded thoughtfully.

"Would you like me to take over?"

Obito was still for a moment, listening to the rustling leaves and the distant voices from the camp.

"Yes, I think so."

"I will keep watch until you return," Sasori assured him, noting the listlessness in Obito's gaze and the heavy toll that seemed to affect the set of his shoulders. He wondered when his master had last left Konoha, for he seemed most out of sorts beyond its walls. He had not known much of Obito's family, only that they had died long ago and that his lineage had been rooted deep within Konoha's history, but he supposed any distance between a man and his home was bound to inspire notions of melancholy, and so he put it out of his mind, turning his gaze back to the road leading to the camp. From their position, hidden behind the trees and thicket of the forest, he could just make out two figures as they strode down the path.

"Hey," transfixed, Sasori waved Obito over anxiously, " - him. It is him."

"Who?" Obito stepped beside Sasori, craning his neck to make out the two men conversing at the entrance of the barricades.

"The man that killed Takahiro. And that," Sasori pointed to the other figure, his face partially obscured by the form of the man in front of him, "That is the bandit from the village beyond the mountains. _Traitorous thief_."

But then, Sasori thought, he should have expected no less from a man whose living was to be bought. As he continued to babble obscenities and curses, Obito's attentions became diverted. He recognized the bandit without difficulty. The other man, however, had a striking familiarity about him, one that, though he could place it, he wished not to. Even without Sasori's confirmation that this was the same soldier who he had spoken of to Orochimaru in Konoha, the same soldier who had thwarted the capture of the Emperor's daughter, there was no question of his definitive features. A mess of solid black hair sat atop his head and, though the man's back was to him as they walked into the camp, his stature - somewhat taller and more broad shouldered - was unmistakable.

"That is him," Sasori hissed again, "Uzumaki Sasuke."

Obito clenched his fist as the swell of his rage crested and crashed over him. Patience, he reminded himself. Patience. He could not act without Orochimaru's blessing, but the knowledge that his former clan persisted still outside of himself was nearly too much for him to bear. _Patience_. He could feel himself trembling against the fury that swallowed him with every second that passed.

The clan that had cast him aside persisted. The bloodline he had forsaken beat on. And the brother of the man that had been chosen over him still lived. Itachi's brother had survived the massacre.

"Patience," the chill in Obito's voice was all he could manage as he felt the control over his personage wavering, "He will be ours in time."

He breathed sharply through his nostrils.

_In time. Sasuke._


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel, again, seriously, thank you so much! What a fun chapter, but what a beast to edit.

"They could not simply have absconded without so much as a threat to our ranks," Naruto said, staring blankly ahead of him, "Why would they do that?"

He turned to Kakashi for an answer, but the man merely shook his head as he stroked his chin. Sasuke's eyes flicked up briefly to Suigetsu, who paced beside the fire, before he addressed Naruto.

"I do not know, but that is what we were told."

"It is a ruse," Suigetsu said decidedly, "It must be. They know we are here and so they will wait for our guard to fall before they attack."

Sasuke did not remark on the familiarity with which Suigetsu seemed to speak, though he did wonder how the man came to be so comfortable amongst him and the other soldiers. Or why they all seemed so comfortable with him in turn. Sasuke was more willing to admit now, at least to himself, that he might have missed some greater aspect of the man's character, but he still held his doubts.

Adversely, Naruto shook his head, ever the optimist in the room as he offered, "Or, perhaps they have learned of our numbers now and know they will be outmatched. It could be the villagers were telling the truth," at once, his countenance changed. He turned to his brother with alighted eyes, "We could go home."

Sasuke could not bring himself to respond - it took everything in him to even nod his acknowledgement of the notion. Meanwhile, Kakashi remained silent and Sasuke shifted his gaze to look at him. But the man was far off, eye glazed and mouth tightened. Before he had even said a word, he stood and took off at a steady pace towards the barracks. Sasuke frowned and Suigetsu slowed his pace, both of them watching him go.

"It makes no sense," Sasuke spoke finally, his voice a coil of frustration and unease, a tenuous wire ready to snap, "They have used any manner of underhanded tactics to win this war - they attacked the palace twice - and yet the moment we bring reinforcements, they flee."

Naruto rested a hand on Sasuke's good arm in an attempt at placation.

"This is the best we could have hoped for," he said urgently, "It is far better than prolonging this war. Trust me."

Sasuke set his jaw tight and looked off towards the horizon. The sun would peak soon, but he was not yet tired. No, he was restless, desperate and disturbed by these newfound revelations. Nothing had gone according to plan. Nothing had gone right since his departure from the palace. Nothing was as it was supposed to be. And he was stuck in the middle of it all.

"We can not leave yet," Sasuke said adamantly. It could not end so unceremoniously; there had to be more, "You should delay your travel to set up the other camp in the meantime. We may need to fortify our position here."

"What will you do, then?" Naruto peered at his brother curiously and Suigetsu paused in his steps, as though he, too, were eager for Sasuke's response. But he was somber for a moment as he considered his choices, unsure of what he _should_ do in such a position. The power was his now, the soldiers at his whim, but he was not a leader. He was only a man. Less than. . .

Although, if he did not have vengeance, he did not have purpose. And if he did not have purpose, he had nothing - he _was_ nothing.

"We will proceed without change. I will station guards in the village and we will continue on to the next," his shoulders slumped as he propped his elbows on his knees and placed his hands at his chin, "There is nothing more to be done now."

Naruto chuckled at his brother's frustration.

"War is not what you expected, is it?"

Sasuke inhaled deeply, composing himself.

"It is not what I remember," he said solemnly, eyes passing to Suigetsu who lurked at their side with a curious expression.

"There will be time for bloodshed, there always is," Naruto said gravely, "Enjoy the peace while you can and stop looking for a fight," he eyed his brother carefully, "Because, when it comes, you will not be ready."

Sasuke hardly had the time to feel insulted as Naruto got to his feet and proceeded towards his tent for the night. He thought he knew what to expect of war. He thought he had seen it the night the Akatsuki had attacked his clan. But he was becoming less sure of that with every moment he spent at the front. If he returned to the palace, what then? What of his future? Was he to live out the rest of his days there? Sasuke raised a hand to his temples, his mind ailed by the strain of his thoughts.

Now that he was settled, he had begun to notice the salve's effect wearing off, the incessant throb of the wound on his forearm returning. With a sharp hiss, he clasped his wrist and squeezed until the pressure he'd created whited out the pain.

"Shall I get you something for that?" Rather than the teasing tone Suigetsu had so mockingly imposed before, there was now a peculiar sincerity that Sasuke could not place. A sincerity of concern? Contrition?

"I am fine," he bit out and stood suddenly. Ignoring the pulsation that slowly trickled back into his arm, he stormed off. His feet carried him to the edge of the camp where the mountains came into view and he paused to admire the scene in front of him. The fireworks had stopped, the clouds had cleared, and a myriad of stars swam around him, twinkling so brightly that they might defy the moon.

It was a different night now. A different sky. Maybe she was looking up at her sky, too. Sasuke's fingers twitched, aching for the key around his neck, but he stalled himself. He had spent the majority of his time dwelling on the past since he'd arrived and it had not done him any good. To think about her, to hope for her, to _dwell_ on her would do him no good either.

After all, that's what she was now - his past.

* * *

Deidara ran his fingers over the stone walls of their hideout. He often considered himself a patient man, but there was a measure of anxiety settling upon him with every encroaching hour. The attack was imminent and, more than anything, he felt himself succumbing to a fear that was near crippling. He could not fail them, he could not fail himself, and he could not fail Kabuto's memory. Sasori was assured of the Akatsuki's success and thus had attempted to assuage Deidara's own uncertainty. But the truth was his doubts had only grown since his training had begun.

"Are you ready?" His commander's voice shook him from his thoughts and he stood to attention in the vastly empty hall. Situated well beneath the surface as they were, there was a reverent echo that traveled the length of the winding corridor as she spoke.

"Yes, Commander," he said stiffly.

"Relax," her voice was quiet as she waved her hand to allay him, "You would not be here if we did not have such faith in you."

"Thank you."

"You should know, he is very pleased by your talents with explosives."

Deidara bowed deeply.

"I am happy to share my knowledge."

"It will get you far," she commended him, though the hardness of her features gave nothing away, "Farther than Sasori ever promised you. If you are successful at the front, he will reward you greatly - I assure you of that."

"Thank you," he said again, his unease dissipating slightly, though he swallowed the misgivings that had been with him since he had pledged his loyalty; he was not so certain they would be received with the same geniality. After all, Sasori's demands were absolute. Obito's word was law.

And no one defied Lord Orochimaru.

"You should return to the others, the command could come at any moment and you need to rest," she instructed him.

"Yes, Commander," Deidara bowed once more, swallowed his guilt, swallowed his trepidation, and turned on his heel.

* * *

"I have been thinking," Suigetsu began as they rode on horseback down the winding forest path, "If the Akatsuki had us cut you off at the pass, how could they have known you were coming?"

Sasuke peered over at his companion. It was just the two of them that night on the second day of their journey to the next village and, against his better judgement, he found himself liking it much more that way. He supposed it might have had something to do with the rest of his regiment remaining safely behind. He did not have to fear for their lives, nor assume the role of leader. He did not bear the same responsibilities and, around Suigetsu, there were no airs to put on.

Or, almost none.

"The Emperor bartered with the Sand and in turn he gave us his soldiers," Sasuke spoke carefully, "If what the villagers have said is true, then the Akatsuki knew months ago that we were coming here - they must have known. That means they have eyes in the Sand," he grew more solemn as he continued on, "It seems as though they have eyes everywhere."

"Suppose they _did_ order a retreat - ,"

"What do you mean?"

"If they found out we could not stop you, perhaps they believed there was no other course of action."

"And _you_ believe that?"

"No," Suigetsu said with a laugh, "And I suspect you do not either."

"I do not know what to believe," he admitted, "Only what I wish to believe."

"And what is that?" Suigetsu prodded, but Sasuke looked away from him, adamant about remaining silent on the matter. So, Suigetsu took another course, "You are from Konoha, yes?"

"Yes," Sasuke could not keep himself from tensing at the question.

"Do you remember the night the Uchiha fell?"

"No," he lied.

"I was too young," Suigetsu said, turning his eyes forward, "But I remember when word came to my province. The elders held a memorial in their honor. There was nary a man, woman, or child that did not light a candle that night. And the next day, the Akatsuki came to destroy our village. The bandits came after, to pillage what remained. I left with them and have not returned since."

"Have you ever wished to?"

"No," Suigetsu shook his head.

"I thought you had no home to think of?"

"It was not a home," despite the somber topic, Suigetsu smirked, "It was a street to sleep on, a shop to earn my keep at - nothing more."

"And your family?"

"Dead or unknown to me," he shrugged, "I found a new family."

"The bandits?"

Suigetsu chuckled and looked over at Sasuke, but did not offer an answer. Despite himself, Sasuke opened his mouth again.

"Why _are_ you here?"

"Pardon?"

"The other night, you asked if I wanted to know - why are you really here?"

Suigetsu's mouth dropped open just as the whistle of a firework sailed above them. It crackled into an explosion of light, spooking the horses - the pair of which bucked and neighed. Sasuke soothed his steed, tightening his hold on the reins and slowing him to a steady clop. Suigetsu followed suit, sidling up to Sasuke who still peered at him expectantly.

"Another time, perhaps," he smiled and jerked his head in the direction of the approaching village, "For now, we have work to do."

After a moment of silence, a contemplative look, Sasuke conceded and rode to the gates with Suigetsu at his side.

* * *

Obito walked through the trees of the forest, measuring his steps with every one that Kakashi took on the other side of the barricades. Through the slits in the wooden posts, he kept his eyes on the silver haired man, following him like the shadow at his feet. He had not expected to see him at the front - or the younger Uchiha - but he would not allow it to complicate his mission. His fierce desire to get his hands on the man mere yards from him, the man he had once called friend, would only make their victory all the more sweet.

"Anything?" Sasori asked as he came upon Obito.

"Nothing."

"The men have been ready. How long are we to wait before we receive word from Lord Orochimaru?"

"Patience," Obito recited, turning his head to face Sasori, "Konoha is a far journey from here."

"We are wasting time," Sasori spat, frustrated, "We should attack now, while we can!"

"That is not your decision to make," Obito responded coldly, "We wait for Lord Orochimaru's instruction."

"Why?" He protested, "The man sits comfortably in his tower while we wage his war in the dirt. A true leader - a leader like _you_ \- fights at our side."

"Silence yourself before I am forced to," Obito hissed darkly, folding his arms over his chest, "Lord Orochimaru is not a man to be crossed. It is because of his guidance, his belief, his power, that I am here - and you as well. You can not fault him for his diligence. He does nothing lightly, because he would not risk even the life of _one_ man under his charge. You could learn something from such fidelity."

"If I spoke out of turn - ,"

"You did, as you are oft to do," Obito scowled.

Sasori looked away, ashamed and infuriated both by his disobedience and Obito's obstinance.

"I will take watch," he said quietly, turning on his heel to the nearest tree. With a skill that was now second nature to him, he ascended the wide trunk with ease, pulling himself to a high branch shrouded by a dense smattering of leaves. He settled there, leaning back as he prepared for a long night. With a heavy sigh, he cast his eyes to the figures below, watching as the soldiers mingled idly. Their annihilation was imminent, yes, and long had he desired to play such a crucial role in the downfall of the Haruno Empire, but despite all he had pledged to the clan, his devotion in body and mind, he found he had little to show for it.

Sasori reached behind him, fingers inching towards the brand beneath his tunic. The brand was supposed to make him special, not simply another cloak in the crowd. It was supposed to make him a leader, not another follower. It was supposed to separate him from the rest, yet he still bent to the will of the man they called Lord. A man he had scarcely seen and heard even less from. He dug his fingers into the skin over his shoulder blade with a growl. A man that had made him no better than a puppet on strings.

* * *

"If this is war, I could quite happily spend the rest of my days traveling and drinking my way through the world," Suigetsu joked as they exited another shop, although he quickly became distracted by a passing group of brightly dressed women, "So long as I might stop and enjoy the people every so often."

"Pull yourself together," Sasuke grumbled as they made their way back to the horses. Despite the merriment they had just witnessed, he found himself to be in a far gloomier mood than when they had first arrived.

"Are we leaving so soon?" Suigetsu lamented.

"I see no reason to stay."

"We could rest the night," he stumbled as he tried to walk forward and look back at the village at the same time.

"We can do that in a tent," Sasuke replied flippantly.

"Do you not miss the feel of a warm bed at night?" He cupped his hands together as though some offering might fall from the sky in answer. Sasuke shook his head slowly, dizzied slightly.

"It is not the bed I miss," he retorted with a slur before he could stop himself. He cursed the drink in his system and vowed never to indulge so much in Suigetsu's presence, though he doubted the occasion would ever arise again.

"Oh?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Come on, it is almost sunrise," Sasuke said urgently, shrugging off Suigetsu's interest. He unhitched his steed and mounted the saddle swiftly, then watched as Suigetsu unceremoniously did the same.

"So, there is a woman waiting for you?" He said, slinging his foot forward repeatedly and missing the stirrup each time.

"You had better be well enough to ride," Sasuke scowled as Suigetsu struggled with the reins, "We are not stopping until nightfall."

"What is her name?" He persisted, flashing a triumphant grin when he had finally managed to secure himself on the saddle.

"Hitch your horse to mine," Sasuke held his hand out, but Suigetsu waved him off. With a skeptic look, Sasuke steered his steed onto the road, maintaining a slow pace as Suigetsu maneuvered himself to catch up. As they began to retrace their path from the camp, the village, just now beginning to slumber, shrank with every gallop forward. Unfortunately for Sasuke, Suigetsu seemed all the more chatty in his inebriation and so he surmised the journey ahead would be a long one.

"What is next for us then?" Suigetsu asked cheerfully.

"Next?"

"Will we move on to the other villages?"

"I am not sure," Sasuke bristled, keeping his eyes forward, "What does it matter to you?"

"I follow you," Suigetsu shrugged, his eyes turning up to watch a bird flying overhead.

"Why do you say that?"

"Hm?" He asked, a genuine perplexity in his gaze as it fell back to Sasuke.

"You recite it as though it is a creed."

"It is," he answered simply.

"What does it mean?" Sasuke threw a look back at his companion.

"I follow you."

"But - ,"

"It is a creed for us thieves," Suigetsu chuckled at his frustration, "We do not live by much, but we do live by honor."

Sasuke scoffed.

"Honor among thieves," he clarified.

"I am not a thief."

"You are no less deserving of honor," he brandished a wide grin, "Or respect."

"Then, you say it out of respect?"

"Precisely," he nodded, "You ought to be flattered."

"Hn."

"It is not something I say lightly," he explained earnestly, the gravity of his voice becoming apparent, but Sasuke, unsettled, refused his gaze, keeping his attention ahead, "Nor do I offer my loyalty to just anyone."

"And I suppose you offered it to Kakashi-san?"

"Not in so many words," he paused for a contemplative moment, "Do you think he would accept it if I did?"

"I can not say."

"Would you?"

Sasuke peered at him from his peripheral, his lips parting to respond before he thought better of it.

"Come on, we must make better time," he spurred his horse into a run as the sun began to rise. Suigetsu followed close behind and called out over the heavy clop of hooves, insistent that he would be heard,

"So, what will you do then?" he asked, "If the war is truly over."

"Do you think it is?" Sasuke practically had to yell to be heard over the rush of wind.

"Suppose it is," Suigetsu pressed, "What will you do?"

"I," Sasuke started, avoiding his companion's persistent gaze, "I do not know."

"Ah," he smiled, but it was void of his usual humor, "You do not wish to return to the palace."

"Of course I do," Sasuke protested, throwing a glare at Suigetsu.

"Then why not go?"

"We do not know the nature of what is occurring here - not for certain."

"Is it not obvious enough?"

"You yourself have said it is inconsequential!" Sasuke rounded on him, his ire getting the better of him and his steed cutting off Suigetsu's horse.

"It is illogical, surely, but suppose it is true," his eyes fixed on Sasuke as he stood immobile in the middle of the path, "What would you do if not return to the palace? To her?"

"You speak of what you do not know," Sasuke glared, his mount pacing where they had stalled.

"You are correct," his eyes narrowed, "But I know enough," his lips twitched up in a willful smirk, "I know that you hide that key beneath your tunic - even from your own brother. I know that that little slip of paper in your coin purse is worn to almost nothing from the many times you have taken it out to read it. And I know there is something you are hiding at the palace, because every time you hear the word, you are gone like a leaf to the wind. I can only assume that is what fuels your reluctance to return."

"You think me scared of a woman?" Sasuke snorted.

"Terrified," Suigetsu challenged him. Sasuke glowered at the man before him.

"As a soldier, I am beholden to my duty to the Emperor," he could narrowly contain the tremor in his voice as he spoke, "That is not something so easily shucked, despite your own assertion that such a freedom is a choice. My duty is not a sword that I may sheath when I am weary of its encumbrances, rather it is the scabbard that never leaves my side. To suppose her presence at the palace is what keeps me from returning - ,"

"So it is her?"

"It is many things," Sasuke finally admitted, somewhat defeated by the onus of his fears and of his failure through the circumstances of this war.

"Would you leave if you could?"

"I would not know where to go."

"Anywhere. You could come with me," Suigetsu offered with a smile, "That is the beauty of freedom, Sasuke."

"You said you chose your freedom," he spat, "This is not freedom."

"It is what I make of it."

"Then you are most fortunate in that regard," Sasuke said bitterly, staring him down.

"And the letter? The key?" Suigetsu asked, cocking his eyebrows, "It seems they only serve to shackle you to the past."

"Hn," Sasuke shook his head, "And if I forsook my duty, what then?"

"Freedom."

Sasuke tightened his jaw to keep from speaking further. With his whited grip on the reins, he yanked them sharply, steering his steed back onto the path towards the camp.

* * *

"Hokage-sama," the emissary bowed to Orochimaru who stood before the monument to Uwabami in the deserted underground temple.

"What is it?"

"The Emperor's soldiers have joined his army at the front."

"Good," he raised his hand to the marble in front of him, watching the warmth of the candles he had lit dancing on its surface, "And their numbers?"

"At least a hundred," the messenger answered, "Perhaps more."

"Obito and Sasori are in position?"

"Yes. And the other soldiers are waiting at the base."

"Very good," Orochimaru nodded thoughtfully, raising his eyes to those of the god above him, "Then, it is time for us to strike. Upon the return of our men, we must ready the village for the Emperor's arrival - I will be expecting him soon."

"And the provinces at the front?" The emissary paused, but when Orochimaru offered him no more, he proceeded on, "What of them?"

"The Emperor's army is our objective," he turned to face his messenger and folded his hands cordially in front of him, "But I would never deny my clan the opportunity to set to rights those who have wronged us. The element of our surprise would surely be defeated if the villages were to warn them of our approach. We must ensure that does not happen."

"Yes, Sir."

The emissary bowed and made his exit. Orochimaru waited a few breaths until he was certain he was alone once more, then turned his attention back to Uwabami. He lowered himself to his knees and placed his hands upon the wooden dais that supported the god's likeness. As he ran his fingers along its edge, he felt for the small latch hidden in a hollowed out pocket on the side. With the pad of his thumb, he pressed it upwards and a slim drawer slid open before him. He pushed aside the pendant and the leather bound journal on top, then reached to the back to retrieve the small pouch that housed his seer stones, the obsidian substance he so often gifted to his pupils. As he pulled a small fragment of it out, he resolved he would have to cure more in the coming days, but for tonight, that piece alone would do. He walked it to the basin in the center of the room and dropped it into the ravenous fire. At once, the smoke billowed into the air, surrounding him, encompassing him, and devouring his senses.

* * *

Sasuke knew the words by heart now. If he closed his eyes, he could recreate every sweep and curve of her handwriting. If he closed his eyes, he could hear her voice reciting the letter to him as though she were right beside him. If he closed his eyes, the hand that clutched the paper over his chest became hers. If he closed his eyes, he was back in her bed, listening to her remark on whatever had captured her attention that day, breathing in the fragrance of her hair as he stroked his fingers through the strands, and basking in the warmth of her body against his as they lay naked beside each other.

Sasuke sighed and folded the parchment, but kept a tight hold on it. He sat slumped against a mossy rock, while Suigetsu bathed in the stream that ran alongside their tents. They had hitched the horses to a nearby tree and unloaded their supplies for the night, but neither had seemed particularly keen on sleeping just yet. And though Sasuke had found the hunger to eat, he had regretted every bite, the rations only serving to dampen his mood further.

He raised his eyes to the sky above, the soft glow of the moon bestowed upon him as his memories consumed him.

"Do you know what name is given to people who stare at the moon?" Suigetsu called over to him.

"Lunatics."

"Yes," he responded after a brief pause, surprised by Sasuke's answer, "How did you know that?"

"It was told to me once," he said softly.

"That letter you keep," Suigetsu began, changing the course of the conversation suddenly, "Is either a profession of love or a rejection of it."

"It would not matter either way," Sasuke scowled, too weary from his counterpart's incessant questioning to bother hiding the truth any longer.

"And the key?"

"It is a key."

"To what?" Suigetsu hoisted himself out of the water and Sasuke shut his eyes, lest he see something he truly wished he had not, "To her heart?"

He scoffed, but chose to ignore the retort, while, to his right, he could hear Suigetsu fumbling with something Sasuke desperately wished were clothes.

"Why have you not told your brother?"

"I have not told anyone."

"Wait," an inkling of suspicion seeped into his words and he went rigid as he asked, "Are you in love with the same woman?"

"No!" Sasuke's eyes shot open as he glared at a half dressed Suigetsu, before pushing himself to his feet with his good arm and storming off to their tent.

"I meant no offense!" He yelled ruefully, "It is a rational question!"

Sasuke glowered to himself and flopped back on the blanket he had laid on the ground, beneath the canopy of their canvas. He smoothed out the creases of the parchment as best he could and with a practiced care, then reached for the leather pouch attached to his trousers. He untied the drawstrings and slipped the letter through the small mouth where it joined the rations of coin he had taken for the journey.

As he turned himself over in search of a comfortable position, he caught the glint of a piece of gold sticking out of a pocket on Suigetsu's pack. Casting a glance to the slim partition of the canvas flaps, Sasuke ensured he could still see him beside the stream outside and crawled towards the bag. He flipped the pocket open and slid out what appeared to be a large gold pendant hanging from a rather mismatched chain. As he ran his thumb across the surface of it, he felt the deep grooves of whatever had been carved there, but in the darkened night, he could not make them out. Before he could investigate further, he heard the approach of footsteps, hastily shoved the pendant back in its place and returned to his side of the tent.

* * *

"Then we rejoin them at the palace," Naruto said simply, "Right, Kakashi-san?"

"If the Akatsuki have indeed called a retreat, then I see no reason to stop us from going home," Kakashi agreed, but upon seeing Naruto's jubilant reaction, he hastily added, "Tell no one of this, yet. Not until we are certain we are leaving. We will have to get word to the Emperor first. At his behest, we will determine our next move."

Naruto clasped a hand on Sasuke's shoulder as he grinned broadly.

"I will be able to see Hinata-chan again," his voice was low, but brimming with excitement about the prospects before him. Then, he added quietly, just to Sasuke, "Mother and Father, they might be able to return to the palace now, too."

"Yes," Sasuke could only nod as he stared blankly into the fire. He could feel Suigetsu's eyes on him, boring into the side of his head as though the man were trying to read his mind. For once, he wished Suigetsu could, for even he himself did not know what thoughts were manifesting there.

"You should all get some rest," Kakashi declared, "We can convene tomorrow and send our correspondence to the palace then."

With that, he stood and retreated to his tent. As silence settled, Naruto and Sasuke each became lost in their own thoughts and Suigetsu decided there would be no better time for him to retire for the evening. He did not bother bidding them a good night, for he did not wish to distract from their attentions, but, unbeknownst to him, Sasuke watched him go every step of the way.

When they were finally alone, Sasuke exhaled a heavy sigh and turned to face Naruto.

"You were right," he admitted, his heart fluttering against the cage of his chest. With every day the reality of war had become more of an illusion and, though he knew it preposterous, his hope had soared at the thought that he might have the opportunity to return to the palace, to return to her, "I met a woman."

Naruto subdued a cocky grin as he looked over at his brother.

"Tell me about her."

Sasuke averted his gaze to the fire crackling before them. Propping his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward, enraptured by the flames as they danced in the modest wind. The warmth of the flickering embers offered him some solace as he once more found himself confronted by what he had hoped so fiercely to finally put behind him.

"She is smart."

_Her curious eyes peered at him over the edge of one of her medical journals._

"Beautiful."

_Tendrils of her hair came loose as she spun with a snarl, her blade clashing with his._

Sasuke cleared his throat roughly, blinking his eyes rapidly to shake him from his trance. Some things were too private, too sacred. If he spoke of her humor, her courage, her autonomy, perhaps they would cease to be. If he shared such things, then they would no longer belong to him, and him alone. To give voice to these aspects of her would be to manifest them into existence. And, for now, she existed only in his memory, but if he continued to speak of her or think of her or dream of her, she would become real again. Then, everything he had done to distance himself from her, from their feelings, from their calamitous romance, would have been for naught.

"All the things a man might want in a woman?" Naruto suggested. Sasuke was silent and so Naruto prodded, "Is she nobility?"

His brother stiffened ever so slightly, but Naruto caught the reaction with a grin.

"Yes," Sasuke admitted shamefully.

"Ambitious."

"Hn."

He had never meant to be, least of all with her, but it was not something he could help now. The longer he remained quiet, though, the hotter Naruto's gaze on him became, until it burned more than the flames in front of him.

"What?" Sasuke asked, irritated.

"It is nothing. Only - I never expected you to fall in love," he said with a flourish of his hand.

"I never said I was in love," Sasuke protested.

"But you are, aren't you?" His brother grinned, "Why else would you speak of her?"

Sasuke's eyes snapped to the knowing look on Naruto's face, an act he instantly regretted.

"What is her name?"

"It does not matter," Sasuke said abruptly, shaking his head, "It is done with now."

"How can you say such a thing?" Naruto balked, admonishing him, "There is not a possession in this world I would trade for Hinata-chan."

"It is not a matter of what I would trade," he shook his head, aggravated that his brother did not understand, but also that he _could not_ understand. For, in order for him to understand, Sasuke would have to tell him the truth. And that, quite simply, was something he could not do.

"Is she betrothed to another?"

"She will be."

"Sasuke - ,"

"It is fine. It is the nature of such things," he rubbed his jaw, feeling the stubble there and resolving to shave that night, "What could I have to offer anyway?"

"There is somebody out there for you," Naruto scooted closer to Sasuke and draped an arm around his shoulder, "I believe it."

Despite himself, Sasuke smirked and looked at his brother, who grinned like the hopeful fool he was. A calming hush fell over them as they sat beside each other. Only the spit of the fire and the far off prattle of a few soldiers surrounded them. But the longer the silence stretched between them, the more Sasuke was forced to think about what would come.

After that moment, when he stood from that makeshift bench, when the Emperor inevitably called his soldiers home, when the war was officially over. . . After that moment, where would he go? What would he do?

Who would he be?

* * *

_Orochimaru knelt on the stone floor beside a shivering Obito. Uwabami observed them from his marble perch, now fully evolved, slitted eyes trained on the intimate exchange._

_"One m-more time," he blubbered, "Let me s-see her. O-One more t-time."_

_"No," Orochimaru replied coldly, unwavering as he looked on at his prodigy._

_"Please," Obito raised his reddened orbs frantically, his hands twisted in a furious grasp that marred his already purpled flesh. Months of training and trials had scarred him, transforming him into something more than a mere man. His hands were weathered and calloused, the muscles in his arms and legs defined, but still, beating persistently in his chest, there was his fragile heart. It's insistence for dominion over his being was a battle he had yet to win, but continued to fight with every breath. Yet, in that moment, he found himself finally ready to surrender._

_"I have granted you the tools to unleash your power, but still you resist," Orochimaru stood slowly and began to circle his hunched form, "If you refuse to take control of your own destiny, how do you ever hope to take your revenge?"_

_"Revenge will n-not return her to my arms," Obito fell forward, his fingers splaying on the stone. His fallen tears wetted and darkened the floor beneath him. Quietly, he pleaded, "But you can. Orochimaru-sama, I beg of you - p-please. Return her t-to me."_

_A violent tremor ran up his spine and he heaved dryly, but his mentor made no move to help him, nor did he offer any concern towards his wellbeing. In fact, he did not seem surprised by the man's illness in the wake of his apparent withdrawals. Where Obito might have foolishly expected kindness, compassion, or some form of empathy, he was instead met with a calculating gaze and an infallible cruelty._

_"She is a crutch for your sorrow when she should be the flame for your rage," Orochimaru's voice was level and calm, monotonous as though he were reciting a practiced speech, "What will you do when you finally face him?"_

_Obito was silent, save the heavy pants forcing their way past his lips. His stomach undulated with every breath, but he found there was nothing else he could produce to quell his sickness._

_"Will you cower as you do now? Will you be rendered inept by the mere sight of him? By the mere mention of her name? Or will it be by the whisper of her memory?" The fine cloths that adorned his body swept out behind him with every step, "When we raise our army against those that defy us, will you surrender at their behest? When you are faced with your former clan, what will you do? The Uchihas, whose name you bore, cast you aside in favor of a child. How will you repay them? In service?" Orochimaru held a hand out to the basin of fire, his fingers close enough that they almost kissed the flames, "Or in blood?"_

_Obito clenched his fists, his gut twisting in knots of sickness, guilt, regret, anguish - and so much more that he could scarcely put a name to it all. With a swift flourish of his robes, Orochimaru started for the door of the temple._

_"Wait!" Obito reached a weary hand outward, blurred vision fixing on the man in front of him. His voice was hoarse, his body fatigued, and his spirit nearly broken, but his resolve had hardened. He knew what he must do, and also what he would need to do it._

_For her._

_For the life they might have had. For the life they once did. For the memories that had begun to fade._

_And for the love that never would._

"Obito."

A soft nudge to his shoulder roused him and he sat up sharply. Sasori eyed him cautiously, forehead creased and eyebrows furrowed. He was slouched against the brick wall in the corner of their abandoned well house in the middle of the forest, not in the temple beneath the village of Konoha, despite how real his dream had felt. But the errant rhythm of his heart began to slow as he breathed in the musty stench around him.

"You were talking in your sleep again."

Obito nodded stiffly and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms. He did not care to know what he might have uttered in his stupor; it would surely trouble him more than the prospect of ignorance as to what Sasori might have overheard.

"Have we received word from the camp?"

"Not yet," Sasori sighed and looked up to the angled roof where a small partition allowed for the entrance of a dim shaft of moonlight, "I am growing sick of all this waiting."

With the roots of his dream still seeded deep within his mind, Obito barely gave the outburst a single thought. Where he would normally outrightly correct such impudence, he, instead, silently agreed. Patience had been a staple of his teachings, a necessary tool to his vendetta, but now, with his objective so close, with Kakashi just on the other side of a wall -

"We strike together or not at all," Obito raised himself to his feet steadily and looked off towards the path that led to the camp, "But we will strike. It is only a matter of time."

* * *

Long after Naruto had gone to his tent, Sasuke remained, fingering the key around his neck and watching the dying light of the fire as it danced across the metal surface. It was becoming clearer to him now, the imminence of the war's conclusion. The Akatsuki had ordered a full retreat. Though they had not announced their surrender yet, the Emperor would declare his victory in due time.

But not a single thing had gone according to plan since his departure from her. His disillusionment with war had only succeeded in increasing to the point that he was not even certain there had been a war to begin with. The road he had first set out on, one of valor, redemption, and honor, now diverged before him. He could return to claim a victory that was not owed to him, a victory that he had not earned his keep in, a victory that he had not bled, nor sweat, nor even breathed for.

Or he could seize the opportunity seemingly laid before him.

Now was his chance. He could leave this all behind. He could finally live a life on his own terms. He could live to no expectations but his own. He could live _free_.

Naruto had a place at the palace; he had made a home there, as well as a name for himself. But all Sasuke had done his entire life was borrow. He had borrowed a name, borrowed a story, borrowed a home. And now he had the chance to make something that was truly his.

Maybe the Uchiha line would end with him. Maybe there was no redemption for his family. Maybe there was no future with her in it.

But maybe he could live a life of peace - a life that would be better for him.

And a life that would be better for her, too.

Sasuke came to his feet slowly, the stiffness of his muscles alerting him to just how long he had been hunched in that position, but before he could take even a step, he spotted Suigetsu walking towards him.

"I was hoping you were still awake," he said with a smile.

"Why is that?" Sasuke tucked the key beneath his tunic as Suigetsu paused before him, a trepidation in his gaze.

"I am leaving this place," he finally spoke, solemn in his tone, "Tomorrow night."

The offer was there, unspoken, yet apparent between them.

But Sasuke had already made up his mind.

"I will go with you," he said firmly.

"You will?" Suigetsu appeared delighted at the prospect.

"You were right. I can not return to the palace."

"You will not need to," Suigetsu beamed, "I assure you."

"Where will we go?" There was still a hesitation in his voice, but as much as the future daunted him, he knew the alternative was unthinkable.

"Sasuke, we can go anywhere we want!"

"Quiet yourself," he hissed sharply, closing some of the distance between them to keep their conversation intimate. He faltered as he said, "I will inform Naruto in the morning, but no one else."

"You trust him not to say anything?" Suigetsu did not even attempt to hide his skepticism.

"With my life," Sasuke said firmly, his eyes narrowed, "He is my brother."

Suigetsu nodded, satisfied, and, though Sasuke was still unsure of all that lay ahead, he found himself beginning to warm to the possibilities that stretched before them. They were bountiful, unending in their opportunity, and all without consequence.

* * *

Sasuke found Naruto the next morning after breakfast in his tent, readying himself for the day.

"Ah, Sasuke," he said with a grin and gestured to the belongings scattered around him. He was clearly preparing for their impending departure, "I can scarcely believe it, can you? I was beginning to think I might never see the palace again - or her."

"Naruto," Sasuke raised his hand hesitantly, inching for the key around his neck.

"I am going to ask Hinata-chan to marry me," he nodded to himself, "Yes, it is time. We can take residence at the palace - perhaps I can secure a position as a delegate to Kizashi-sama - or I will find us a place out in the country - ,"

"Naruto, I - ,"

"You must be there when I ask her, I will need your help of course - ,"

"Naruto!" Sasuke flinched at his tone as Naruto paused in his movements to face his brother. Sighing heavily, he said gravely, "I must ask a favor of you."

"Anything," Naruto remarked with a fervent nod. Sasuke took a deep breath, clutched the key and pulled the ribbon over his head. He held it in front of him, admiring the trinket for just a moment more. It was a small thing, of no remarkable make, yet it held a weight more devastating than he could have ever imagined.

"When you return," he began slowly, offering the ribbon to Naruto. Perturbed by the severity of Sasuke's tone, he reached for it hesitantly, "Will you give this to her?"

"Sasuke, no," Naruto shoved the key at his chest, abhorred by what his brother's words suggested, but Sasuke caught his hand in a tight fist, closing their fingers around the teeth of the metal.

"Please," he was more disparate than Naruto had ever seen him, yet his voice was quiet, despondent, as he said, "Either something is coming or nothing is. But there is no life for me in glory - or servitude."

Naruto's wide blue orbs softened and his shoulders dropped with the weight of his brother's words.

"You will not return with us," there was no question in his words, but the slight nod of Sasuke's head solidified it. The prickle of tears began in Naruto's eyes as he stared at Sasuke in disbelief.

"I have no place there."

"Not with her?" he argued.

"Most especially," Sasuke shook his head slowly. There was a moment of reverent silence, a contentious battle within himself, before Naruto opened his mouth and asked,

"Not even as my brother?"

Without delay, Sasuke clasped a hand at the back of Naruto's neck, pulling him close until their foreheads rested together. He might have made his decision, but it did not stall the tremor in his fingers or the thickness in his throat as he stared, unblinking, into Naruto's eyes.

"I will _always_ be your brother," Sasuke avowed fiercely.

Naruto was stiff, tears trailing down his cheeks, afraid to move for fear that he might fall apart completely. As much as it broke his heart, there was nothing left to be said about it. He knew that Sasuke's mind was not so easily changed, and why should his brother trade freedom for a life behind walls?

With a silly laugh, Naruto pulled away and brandished the key before slipping it around his neck.

"How will I know who she is?"

Sasuke smirked, but he struggled to hold it in place, to maintain his façade of staunch resolution.

"She will come find you."

Naruto rolled his eyes and swiped at his tears.

"At least tell me her name."

Sasuke shook his head solemnly.

"I can not," his eyes pled, begging Naruto to let him keep this secret, at least for a little while longer.

At least, until he could no longer.

* * *

"Brothers!" Obito called out to the throng of Akatsuki standing to attention in front of him. Orochimaru's herald stood to the side, enthralled in the unfolding speech and emboldened by the energy exuded from his clan, "Today is the day we claim our futures once and for all! No more will we be held at the mercy of the Emperor's corruption. His oppression dies with the rest of those dogs that have pledged their allegiances to him. Now, we strike!"

A raucous chorus of cheers and battlecries sounded from the crowd, reverberating through the clearing they had congregated in. As Obito continued to speak, provoking the rest of the clan, Deidara looked over to Sasori. He stood beside Obito, echoing every command, every epithet, his fist raised to the people before him. He had earned his brand in Deidara's eyes, but Deidara was also not blind to the strife endured by Sasori. He was not blind to the sacrifices his friend had made. He was not blind to the sacrifices he, himself, had made. And he was most certainly not blind to the sacrifice Kabuto had not intended to make. So he understood the pressure of their victory on that day, for it would be their best chance, and also their last.

Deidara turned to his commander who stood beside him, his voice a hushed whisper as he asked,

"What about the villages?"

"I have a plan," she assured Deidara.

"But, he said - ,"

" _I know_ what he said," she hissed, "We can not risk it now, but you must trust me. I have a plan."

Deidara's eyes darted back to Obito and Sasori who continued to rile the crowd with promises of victory and violence. She was right, they had come too far now, they were too close, and they could not afford any setbacks. Begrudgingly, he nodded and said,

"Yes, Konan-san."

* * *

Sasuke met Suigetsu in the stables when the moon was at its highest in the sky. Suigetsu had prepared two horses - one being the black steed Sasuke had rode to the front - for the journey that lay ahead of them.

"Have you brought the rations?"

"Yes, enough for a day's ride."

"Only a day?" Suigetsu furrowed his brows.

"I will take no more than we need," Sasuke said sternly, "We can stop at the nearest village to stock up on provisions."

"That weak heart of yours will get you killed one day," Suigetsu scowled.

"Better a weak heart than a heavy conscience," he retorted.

"How do you think I have survived all these years?"

Sasuke ignored him, taking hold of the reins and leading his horse from the stables. Suigetsu made a crude noise in response to Sasuke's dismissal, but followed close behind. They clung to the shadows of tents and structures, avoiding the barricades where soldiers patrolled, and approached the path leading towards the villages. There should have been two men stationed at the entrance, but instead, they found only Naruto.

"What are you doing here?" Sasuke asked.

"I had to say goodbye. Again," Naruto shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, "I might never see you after this."

"Perhaps one day - ," Sasuke faltered over his own words, but fell quiet as he caught the look on Naruto's face.

"We are pressing our luck," Suigetsu urged him, "We should leave before we are seen. I do not think they would take kindly to us borrowing their horses."

Naruto shook himself from his reverie and nodded.

"Be safe," he spoke with a sincerity, a certainty, an honesty that cut Sasuke to his core.

"You as well," Sasuke tightened his fist around the leather straps of the reins to quell the shake of his hand. It inspired a rush of pain through his arm that radiated from his still fragile wound, but it was a good distraction from the pain echoing in his heart, "Congratulations, Naruto. On your intentions with Hinata."

"Oh," the sorrow fought through the smile Naruto tried to keep in place, but Sasuke's words were only a reminder that he would be absent from such a momentous occasion. He bowed his head, before looking to Suigetsu, "Take care of him, won't you?" The beginnings of a smirk formed on his lips, "He is useless on his own."

Suigetsu chuckled and shot a smug look at his companion.

"I do not find that so difficult to believe."

Sasuke bit his tongue; he could drag this out all night long, trading casual insults for just another moment more. But much like his time at Sakura's side, he was only delaying the inevitable.

"Will you," Sasuke stuttered, the heaviness on his chest, on his shoulders, in his bones, hindering him, "Will you tell her - ,"

He fell silent and Naruto prodded him with a look. Sasuke shook his head with a grunt.

"Nothing," he said. Naruto frowned and bowed his head, choking on a sob as he raised his fist limply.

"Damn it, Teme," he shook as the tears escaped him. Sasuke stepped forward, clasping an arm around his brother to draw him close.

"Minato and Kushina," Sasuke started, but Naruto simply nodded; that, at least, he understood.

"I will," his voice wavered as they pulled away. Sasuke opened his mouth to say more, but promptly shut it. The inevitable was here. It was time for them to go. Without a word, he stepped around Naruto, out onto the path that would take him through the rest of his life. As he mounted his steed, he looked back to the only person he had called family since he had lost his the night of the attack, the only person he had ever called friend. Even through the tears, Naruto was still smiling at him.

Suigetsu sidled up beside Sasuke on his horse.

"Shall we?"

He nodded solemnly and turned his attention to the road ahead. Gingerly, he felt for the leather pouch at his hip, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger to ensure the parchment remained snugly inside. He exhaled softly, relieved somewhat to know that no matter what, she would always be by his side.

As Suigetsu started into a gallop, Sasuke lingered for a long breath. He watched his companion ride forward, then bowed his head, aching to look back one more time. But he resisted, raised his eyes, and spurred his horse into a run. The sound of hooves beating against the dirt path drowned out the reverberating crack of the chasm opening in his chest. It drowned out the roughened breath that swelled in his lungs. It drowned out the bellowing thoughts that took residence in his mind. It drowned out everything, until there was nothing left.

Nothing at all.

Naruto rubbed his eyes furiously, attempting to right himself before he walked back into the camp. He had not expected to part from Sasuke so quickly, but now that it had occurred, he knew that it was only ever how their time together would end. He had never been able to imagine the pain of hiding his lineage for the better part of his life, of keeping a part of himself secret from every person that crossed his path, of being unable to find a place in the world to call his own. But it had not stopped him from doing everything within his power to prevent Sasuke from feeling like that. Or at least, from feeling like that alone.

Naruto must have stood there for nearly an hour, mulling over his thoughts and watching the road as though Sasuke might change his mind and come racing back. But it was not so. As he pondered alone, he realized he did not yet know what he would tell the others come morning - or what he might deny - but for now, he believed -

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the ground beneath his feet and he spun around to see the barracks set aflame.

* * *

A rustle of leaves in the trees beside them called Sasuke's attention. His eyes shot up instinctively, searching for the possibility of a threat.

"It is odd, don't you think?"

"What?" Sasuke returned his attention to Suigetsu.

"The fireworks," he pointed to the sky, "We have not seen a single one since we departed."

"We must nearly be to the village now," Sasuke mused, a weariness to his voice as he spoke, "Perhaps we will ask them."

"Right," Suigetsu agreed, albeit dubiously. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, "Suppose the war is not over."

"Why should I want to suppose that?" Sasuke questioned as the opened gates to the village came in to view. Though the glow of lanterns could be seen, there was no sound nor indication of frivolity as they approached.

"Suppose it was all a diversion," Suigetsu reminded him as they came upon the gates, "As you said."

"Why desert the villages unless - ," Sasuke broke off abruptly. Bared before them in a sickening display of ruthless carnage were the very townspeople that not a week prior had welcomed them into their province. Their bloodied bodies were scattered along the path, their homes ablaze with what Sasuke realized had not been the warm glow of candlelight, but rather a devastating fire. They slowed to a stop, horror entrenching them in place as they looked on at the grisly scene before them.

Sasuke had never seen such violence before, but a sickening revelation took hold of him as he realized his clan had shared the same fate.

"This is unspeakable," Suigetsu swallowed against the lump in his throat, stalled beside Sasuke at the threshold of the village, "What monsters would - ,"

"The Akatsuki," Sasuke's hands trembled as he clenched his fists around his horse's reins, "They already had control of the villages, why - ," he shook his head, eyes widening, "No. . ."

"What?"

"The palace."

"The palace?"

"They're going to attack the palace," he turned his horse around sharply, facing down the path that would lead them to the camp, "We have to go back!"

Together, they charged down the road, racing against what might already be waiting for them.

No, he could not afford to be late. Naruto was in danger. The Emperor, too. And Sakura. . . Sakura. . .

Sasuke spurred his steed faster, the wind like needles to his eyes as they surged onward.

He _had_ to stop them.

_The clouded cloaks._

* * *

Naruto ran inside the barracks, his tunic covering his nose and mouth as the smoke muddled the air around him.

"Over here!" He called out, ushering his men towards the exit. They sprinted at the sound of his voice, just as the structure began to buckle and moan, escaping through the door one by one. But as the wood continued to creak, Naruto was forced to roll out of the way, the building collapsing and trapping the remaining soldiers within. Shouting to the men around him, he said, "Are you all right?!"

Though many were unable to respond for the smoke in their lungs, the few that could managed a meek nod.

"Get your weapons!" Naruto bellowed as more men gathered in the wake of the explosion, "Take your posts!"

All around him soldiers took up swords, bows, and shields. The archers ran to the watchtowers, ascending the stairs with great rapidity, while the men on the ground took up their formations, standing back to back, their shields raised. One of the men approached with a spare sword and Naruto took it dutifully as he joined the ranks of his soldiers.

"What do you see?!" He barked.

"Over here!" An archer called from one of the watchtowers.

"They are here!"

"Just beyond the barricades!"

Naruto swiveled on his feet as every call came out around the camp, but no matter what direction he faced, he saw the horde of masked and hooded figures closing in around them.

* * *

Sasuke sped through the forest, Suigetsu hot on his heels. He could only hope, could only pray, that he was not too late; he would not lose another brother to the Akatsuki. _He could not._

"Sasuke," Suigetsu's voice was tight as he pointed to the sky. Smoke rose into the night, dark and voluminous, as they looked on. Seized by terror, they barreled towards the camp, only to see the mass of black figures blocking their way. A blaze of determination lit within him, Sasuke unsheathed his sword, spurred his horse, and charged towards them. They turned at the sound of the hooves, some jumping out of the way and others catching the point of Sasuke's blade. But, before he could get much farther, a knife came sailing through the air and lodged into the neck of his steed. The horse flailed, bucking Sasuke off the saddle as it fell to the ground. Sasuke stumbled as he righted himself, brandishing his sword just as another came striking down towards him.

The cold visage of a painted mask met him as the man pushed against his blade and he realized the great disadvantage his wound still left him at. The pressure became too much and he was forced to release his hold. Sasuke ducked as the sword sliced through the air in front of him and kicked out the Akatsuki's legs from beneath him. With a swift pivot of his feet, he drove the iron through the man's chest and yanked it back with a pained hiss. He quickly took up the hilt in his left hand - a sturdy replacement for the moment, yet with far less dexterity than his dominant arm.

But, as the swarm of Akatsuki turned their attentions to him, he realized it would not matter. They were dangerously outnumbered - even with their reinforcements, they had never stood a chance.

"Sasuke!" Suigetsu careened towards him on his horse, his arm outstretched. Sasuke took it, releasing a savage cry for the pain it caused him when Suigetsu hoisted him atop the saddle, whereupon it took all of his strength to grab hold of Suigetsu's tunic as they rode away from the cloaked figures.

"We have to get into the camp," Sasuke panted, "Naruto - I have to - ,"

"I do not see a way in," Suigetsu kept the horse at a gallop as they rode around the length of the barricades, keeping their distance from the advancing horde, "Do you?"

"We fight our way in," Sasuke proclaimed.

"We have no chance!" Suigetsu protested, "But we have a horse - we can leave, get somewhere safe."

"I will not abandon him," Sasuke said ferociously, "If you will not help, so be it, but I will not run away from this fight."

Suigetsu let out a frustrated growl and jerked the reins, pulling the horse in the opposite direction.

"Fine, but you are on your own. I have no intention of losing my life today."

Sasuke held his tongue. He did not either, but that choice did not belong to him.

* * *

"FIRE!" Naruto roared and arrows shot from the watchtowers. They crested through the smoky sky and dove into the sea of black that bordered their barricades. The archers reloaded, pulled back, and fired again as Kakashi came upon Naruto, his sword in hand.

"Where is your brother?" He questioned, "We need him."

"I," Naruto started, then looked off to the hooded men that began to spill into the camp, "I do not know."

Before Kakashi could respond, a violent yell tore through the commotion. Their attention drawn, Naruto and Kakashi turned to the man at the forefront of the battalion. He pushed his hood back and threw his mask to the ground with a force that shattered it to pieces. The significance was lost on Naruto, for he had not a notion of who the man might be, but beside him, Kakashi had turned an ashen white. A tremor started in his hands that spread to his limbs and it took all his power to remain upright as Obito lurched towards him.

As if they had been given a signal, the rest of the Akatsuki hurtled forward, rushing the soldiers in the camp.

"Kakashi-san," Naruto shoved against him, but the man would not move from his position, "Kakashi-san!"

Obito raised his blade as he ran, but before he could strike, Naruto drew his sword and threw himself in front of Kakashi. The metal clashed with a resonating ring and seemed to snap Kakashi from his daze. He pushed Naruto aside and swung his blade against Obito's. Naruto fell to the ground with a grunt, his sword clattering as it slid away from him.

"It does not have to come to this," Kakashi hissed, his voice out of earshot from anyone else, "Let me explain!"

Obito unleashed a furious yell and pulled his arm back.

"Ple - ,"

His sword came down in relentless strikes. There was no meditation to his movements, no skill or precision - only anger. In sharp, hacking motions, he advanced on Kakashi, driving him back towards the smoldering wreckage of the barracks.

Naruto scrambled for his sword, his eyes on Kakashi, when he was wrenched back by the collar and thrown to the ground. Above him, the tip of an iron blade came down and he rolled to the side before it could pierce his chest. He clamored to his feet and plunged his sword forward.

* * *

"I will get you inside the camp, but that is all," Suigetsu said decidedly. As they rode towards the herd of black, he instructed Sasuke, "You take the left and I will take the right. We will clear a route to the entrance."

"And how will you get out of the camp?"

There was silence until Suigetsu quipped,

"Do not make me regret this already."

"Hn."

They tore into the crowd, their swords flanking each side to cut down the men that blocked their path. When they neared the opening in the barricade, the numbers thinned as the Akatsuki dispersed within the camp, allowing for them to slip through the entrance.

"You should get off here!"

Without a word, Sasuke leapt from the horse, tumbling to the ground and landing on his right arm with a bellowed curse. He did not need to look to know the stitches had come undone; he could feel the trickle of blood winding down his wrist already. Using his sword, he pushed himself onto his feet and looked wildly around him.

"Naruto!" he shouted, spinning frantically in a circle, but all he could find was a sea of black overrunning the camp.

"Sasuke!" Naruto called out and he whipped around, spotting his brother locked in a fierce struggle with two Akatsuki. He surged forward, running towards them, lifting his sword with his left hand and sank it into the neck of one of the men. Naruto was able to parry the other, knocking him back and lunging into a strike that penetrated the man's chest. He turned to Sasuke, frenzied and enraged, "Why did you come back?!"

"To help you!"

"You should have kept going!" Naruto said furiously.

"No," Sasuke shook his head, but his eyes darted about them, noting the advancement of the Akatsuki all around them, "I would never abandon you - and I could not run from this fight."

"Sasuke," Naruto admonished him, but the approach of more Akatsuki stalled their quarrel. Of course he had returned. Of course he could not simply have left with this knowledge. Of course he could not run from this fight. It was about more than Naruto, more than the empire, more than his name. . .

They turned their backs to the other and confronted the danger before them.

* * *

Obito vaulted from the rubble, his sword raised above him as he jumped towards Kakashi. Their blades slid against each other and Kakashi stepped aside as Obito lunged once more. He faltered and Kakashi grabbed his arm, flinging him against the barricade and trapping him with a blade to his throat.

"It should not have been this way," Kakashi seethed, "You could have stopped him. You could have prevented all this bloodshed."

Obito sneered, his fingers inching to his blade before Kakashi kicked it away.

"You could have saved her," Obito spat vehemently, "Her blood - _and theirs_ \- is on your hands."

Kakashi thrust his sword ever closer, letting it kiss the skin of Obito's neck.

"I have mourned for her _every day_ since," his voice trembled as he spoke, "It was my loss to bear, too."

"You insult her memory with your lies," Obito jeered, taunting Kakashi, "Kill me now and you would be doing me such an honor. Reunite me with her. Go on!"

Kakashi drew his arm back and sheathed his sword in its scabbard. He could see the fury swirling in Obito's eyes at his refusal and so a satisfied smirk settled on his face.

"You have taken your pound of flesh from me," he clenched his fingers, tightening his knuckles, "But I will not take mine."

As he turned away, Obito swept his leg out, catching Kakashi's ankles and sending him tumbling to the ground. Obito shot to his feet as Kakashi whirled around, scooting across the dirt on his back.

"You refuse to fight me?" Obito cracked his knuckles and flexed his hands before drawing them into fists.

"I have no desire to!" Kakashi declared desperately as he scurried away from the man in front of him, "You are not my enemy!"

"Is that not what you made me?!" Obito yelled, raising his leg to stomp his foot down, but Kakashi caught his boot and threw him to the side. He crashed into the barricade with a groan. Hurrying to stand, Kakashi raised his arms defensively.

"It was all Orochimaru's doing - ,"

With an angry shout, Obito shot to his feet. He ran at Kakashi and swung his fist, but Kakashi shoved his arm up and deflected the blow. Undeterred, Obito unleashed the full fury of his anger and slammed his fist into Kakashi's chin hard enough that a grisly crack could be heard. Kakashi faltered backwards, clutching his slackened jaw as the taste of metal hit his tongue.

"You are a coward!" Obito struck again, his fist connecting with Kakashi's nose, "You let her die!" Another punch and Kakashi was forced to the ground. Blood leaked from his nostrils and his cheeks swelled from the contusions, "And now you will pay for what you did," Obito raised his leg and shoved his foot forward. His boot hit Kakashi squarely in the face and he fell limply to the ground. Obito reached into the pouch at his side and withdrew a kunai. He ran his thumb over the Akatsuki symbol on the blade thoughtfully and dropped to his knees beside Kakashi.

His breaths came in deep and heavy, his chest swelled, and his eyes watered as he hovered above the man he had once called friend. Clenching the handle of the blade tightly, he pressed it against Kakashi's throat and whispered,

"Forgive me."

* * *

Like two dancers to the same beat, Naruto and Sasuke moved in unison as the battle around them raged, but it seemed with every Akatsuki member they felled, two more of the Emperor's soldiers had been taken with them.

"This is not going to end well," Naruto admitted, shoving his blade through the stomach of the man in front of him. Sasuke darted forward and swiped his sword across the neck of another. As they caught their breath, they came together again and Sasuke muttered,

"We have to warn the Emperor."

"Where is Kakashi-san?"

The two spun on their feet until Sasuke spotted Obito with the kunai in his hand.

"There!"

Naruto charged forward, brandishing his sword and letting loose a fierce cry that attracted Obito's attention. Springing to his feet, Obito was able to jump out of the way just in time as Naruto's blade cut through the air. He struck quickly, but Obito evaded him again.

"I know you," he taunted, tipping his chin to sneer condescendingly, "I was there the night your father fled like the _coward_ he is."

Naruto growled and lunged for him, but Obito shoved his palm against Naruto's elbow, breaking his bone with the force of the contact. Sasuke ran for Naruto as he released a pained wail and dropped his sword. Obito looked over with a smirk as Sasuke sprinted towards him.

"Uchiha," he spat and the word was enough to cause Sasuke to falter, his defenses dropping long enough for Obito's hand to shoot out and wrap around Sasuke's throat. He gasped for air and swung his sword, but Obito caught his wrist effortlessly. Constricting his fingers tighter, Obito sneered as he watched the discoloration gather in Sasuke's face, "Yes. I know you, too - And your brother."

Despite every choke and strain for breath exhibited by the man whose life he held in his hands, Obito whispered harshly,

"Tell me, _filth_ , does Itachi live? Or did he die beside your pathetic parents?"

Sasuke's right hand flew up to Obito's wrist and he dug his fingers in, attempting to pry himself free. Regardless of the pain, Obito held on, seething as he hissed,

"We never could find his body."

"AGHH!" Naruto yelled as he ran up behind Obito and stuck his sword through the man's shoulder. Obito released Sasuke with a violent cry and flailed for the hilt of the blade that had pierced straight through his flesh. Sasuke choked and heaved as he struggled to his knees on the ground just as a second explosion deafened the sound around them, blowing plumes of dust into the air.

"Sasuke!" Naruto looked frantically about, but could scarcely see an inch in front of him. Then, a figure appeared in the smoke, staggering towards him, and Naruto crouched beside Kakashi defensively.

"Naruto," Sasuke coughed and hacked as he stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet in the muddled space.

"Here!" Naruto held his arm out to reach for Sasuke, his broken one flaccid at his side. Sasuke caught his hand and fell to his knees, still heaving in gulping breaths despite the pain it caused him.

"We have to go," Naruto said urgently, "We have to load up the wagons and fall back."

"Go," Sasuke nodded and slid his good arm under Kakashi, shouldering what he could of his weight until Naruto rushed to help him, "Take Kakashi and I will hold them off."

"What? No!" Naruto faltered as Sasuke released his hold on the unconscious man.

"Trust me," Sasuke implored him, ushering him in the direction of what he hoped were the wagons.

"You are coming, though, aren't you?" Naruto nearly buckled under the weight of Kakashi's body; his other arm was rendered inept now and so it was difficult to balance himself, but he had to hear his brother's answer.

"Yes," Sasuke assured him, even as he backed away, slipping into the cloud left from the explosion, "I will be along, but you must go and help them now!"

Sasuke retrieved his sword, then ran past the debris and into the clear night, but the assailant that had tried to kill Kakashi was nowhere to be found. His eyes searched what he could see of the camp. How had that man known of his identity? Who was he?

"Uzumaki!"

Sasuke shifted at the sound of the name, confusion marring his features, and found himself looking into the face of a man he just barely recognized. Though his face was familiar, he could not place him just then, but the man clearly knew _him_.

Sasori strode forward, brandishing a kunai that he flung sharply. Sasuke raised his sword quickly, deflecting the blade. Then, Sasori reached behind him for the pack at his waist and withdrew three more. In quick succession, they left his fingers. Sasuke twirled his blade, countering the first two, but unable to properly wield the sword in his left hand, he took the third kunai to his shoulder.

His blade dropped with a clatter and his bloodied right hand reached for the handle of the knife. Shaky fingers closed around the hilt, but even the slightest pressure as he attempted to pull it free had him howling in pain.

Sasori smirked as he cornered his prey and Sasuke was forced to relent, leaving the kunai lodged in his left shoulder. It was at that moment Sasori slipped his hand beneath his cloak and unsheathed a long steel blade. He angled the tip towards Sasuke's chest.

"It would please me greatly for you to beg me for your life," Sasori sneered, "As I am certain that is what my brethren did before you so heinously took their lives."

"You were at the palace," Sasuke seethed, realization dawning on him. His eyes were fixed on Sasori despite the sword pointed at him.

"Indeed," he stepped closer, forcing Sasuke back, "But I have found one thing to be most irksome about that night - and that is _you_. How could a mere _soldier_ ," he hissed furiously, "Have known of our plans that night?"

"Your _brethren_ told me everything," Sasuke's breath labored as they continued to dance around each other. The pain in his shoulder spread like a poison throughout his body, while the laceration on his forearm had breached the point of sheer numbness.

"And why would he do that?"

"A guilty conscience perhaps?" Sasuke would have shrugged if not for the kunai impaled within him.

"You were right to kill him then," Sasori seemed almost to applaud him as he continued on, "There is no room for guilt here - it is a weakness, a plague," with a pointed look, he proclaimed, "You would do well among us."

"I have no desire to join your ranks," Sasuke spat. He wished to say more and, well, he very nearly did. His head pounding, his breaths shortening, his body weakening - why should he not have this moment of veracity, of redemption? But before he could, an arrow came whizzing through the air and struck Sasori in the back of the hand. He screamed in pain, dropping his sword, and whirled around to find the archer.

Suigetsu lowered his bow with a wry smirk and ran for Sasuke. As grateful as he was to see him, Sasuke barked,

"Go back and help Naruto!"

"He is fine!" Suigetsu retorted as he placed himself between Sasori and Sasuke. Drawing another arrow from his quiver, he loaded his bow and remarked snidely, "You need more help than him."

The arrow still lodged in his hand, Sasori scooped up his sword and lunged for them. Frantic, Sasuke raced towards a fallen soldier and took up his sword, its hilt still closed within the man's hand. He thrust it above him just as Sasori's blade came down. They collided with a resonant clang and Sasuke rolled back as the pain in his arms became too much to bear, scrambling to his feet before Sasori could strike again. But as Sasori surged forward, cutting through the air to plunge the sword into Sasuke's chest, another arrow sailed between them, piercing him in the stomach. Sasori staggered back and Suigetsu took that opportunity to yank the kunai out of Sasuke's shoulder and drag him off towards the caravan.

"You need to leave now!" Suigetsu berated him.

"No!" Sasuke objected, "I must stay and see this through. But the others," he gasped for a breath as they dodged projectiles and felled bodies, "They must leave before it is too late! The palace must be warned!"

Suigetsu opened his mouth to rebuttal, but upon catching the look in Sasuke's eyes, he held his tongue. As they came upon the wagons, Naruto went rigid at the sight of Sasuke bloodied and battered.

"Naruto, you have to go now!" Sasuke bellowed, "You have to warn the Emperor! We will hold them off while you escape!"

"NO!" Naruto said fiercely, extending his hand from the back of the cart. It was nearly loaded with soldiers, an unconscious Kakashi among them, and as many supplies as they could fit. All they were waiting for was him, "I will not leave you here. Not alone!"

"He will not be alone," Suigetsu promised Naruto firmly, coming to stand by Sasuke's side.

"You have to go," Sasuke pleaded, his eyes fixed on Naruto, "Make sure the Harunos are safe."

"Sasuke - ,"

"GO!" He barked and signaled for the wagon to pull away. The soldier at the helm spurred the horses forward and the wagon jerked unsteadily as it veered for the road beyond the barricades. Naruto shot to his feet, but was caught at the wrist by another soldier. He shrugged him off roughly, his broken arm swinging limply, but as he tried to leap from the back of the cart, the others shoved him back, holding him down until they were out of Sasuke's sight.

Without another look, he turned back to Suigetsu. They exchanged a determined nod, a wordless affirmation, and Suigetsu reminded him,

"I follow you."

"Hn," Sasuke bowed his head gratefully, but before they could say any more, he spotted Sasori storming across the camp, his eyes fixed on them. Suigetsu raised his bow, pulling another arrow from his quiver. He lined the broadhead up with his finger and breathed deeply.

"I will handle him," he declared, "Go and find a sword."

Sasuke nodded, clutching the wound on his arm in an effort to staunch the bleeding long enough for him to pick up a blade. But he knew it would be no use. He would have to fight through the pain. He would have to fight through every breath. He would have to fight until he could not anymore.

Sasuke took off in search of a weapon as another explosion jolted the entire camp. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the infirmary in flames and spotted the array of tents around it. Changing course, he dove inside one of them and found the belongings of another soldier still within. He grabbed a forgotten tunic up off the ground and tore it sharply. Hastily, he wrapped it around his forearm and tied it off with his teeth. That, at least, would help him to wield the blade which he retrieved from beside the now abandoned cot.

When he reemerged, the expanse of red and black that filled the camp was near overwhelming - he could not even pick Suigetsu out of the crowd. What's more, there was hardly a soldier left in his sight.

Only the clouded cloaks remained. Them, and the fire.

Sasuke flexed his fingers around the hilt of the sword and faced down the vast battlefield before him. He could spot at least six men advancing on him and in his condition he knew his chances of survival dwindled with every passing second. But if this was how it would all end, so be it. There would be honor in his death, redemption in this battle, and peace beyond this chaos.

He raised his sword defiantly, limbs aching, lungs shuddering, heart racing, and sprinted towards the Akatsuki. As they converged upon him, he slid to his knees, dodging their blades and slicing his across their legs. They fell with a unilateral cry and Sasuke jumped to his feet. He struck his sword through the back of the nearest man and shoved him with a kick into another.

Unable to stand, the remaining four scrambled across the ground, striving hand over hand to get to safety. Sasuke stomped his foot onto the spine of one of them, holding him in place as the hand that gripped his sword shook with pain. With a sharp sting that traveled up the length of his arm, he plunged his sword through the man's head. Blood soaked the iron as he pulled it free and dripped onto the dirt as he stepped closer to the others. A triumphant rush of adrenaline surged through his veins as he looked on at them. He did not know if these men had been there that night. He did not know if these men were the ones to raid his village. He did not know if these men had killed his family.

But he did know that they had pledged themselves to the same power that had taken everything from him. And that was enough.

He raised his sword above his head, the weight of it near crippling, when he felt the sharp edge of a kunai lodge in his side. He let out a cursed yell, his blade falling from his grip as he turned wildly, grasping blindly for the knife.

Sasori stood yards away, a sinister grin on his face as he held the collar of Suigetsu's tunic. With a harsh grunt, he threw the man at Sasuke's feet. Sasuke dropped to his knees instantly, shoving at Suigetsu's heavy form to turn him onto his back.

"Suigetsu?!" Sasuke was breathless as he searched for a pulse. It was faint beneath his trembling fingers, but enough to filter a relief through him that, even then, he was surprised to feel. Yet, his condition appeared dire. Blood seeped from wounds Sasuke could not even see and his skin had begun to purple with bruises and contusions that littered his body.

"Are you ready to beg?" Sasori inched towards him, his hands red and his gait staggered; Suigetsu had put up an admirable fight.

"There is nothing you could offer me," Sasuke spat, trying and failing to obtain a grip on the kunai at his side.

Sasori tutted as he approached Sasuke, circling him like a wolf ready to devour his meal.

"Perhaps a place among us?" He mused, "The man you fight for, his time is over. His empire will fall," Sasori placed his hand on the back of Sasuke's head, gripped his hair tightly, and pulled sharply, "Look around you. Your soldiers are dead, your camp abandoned. There is no hope left for you here. Surrender to us and you may find mercy."

Sasuke was silent, his eyes fixed on the desolation in front of him. The smoldering wreckage of the buildings around him, the singed flags bearing the Haruno coat of arms, the bodies of the fallen - this was war.

This was his memory. This was his village.

While he was no longer a child, he found himself to be just as helpless, just as scared, just as _weak_ , in that moment as the night he had fled. But, at least Naruto was being taken to safety, at least Naruto had gotten away, at least Naruto could warn the Emperor.

At least Sakura would be safe.

Sasori leaned down to whisper in his ear, his rancid breath like a hot iron on Sasuke's face,

"Or you can die in the dirt with the rest of them," he shoved Sasuke forward and came around to face him, his eyes piercing as he asked, "What will it be?"

Sasuke spat at Sasori's feet. Infuriated, Sasori drew back his fist and let it collide with Sasuke's face. Sasuke fell backward, the kunai in his side sliding deeper as he landed on it. He cursed and hissed, rolling off of it gingerly, only to have Sasori swing his boot into his stomach. Sasuke doubled over in pain, a gasping breath sucked in through clenched teeth and a tightened throat.

"It is just as well," he said over Sasuke's distressed groans, "We have no use for such _impuissance_."

Sasori kicked him again and a shattering crack signaled the damage he had dealt to Sasuke's ribs. A shuddering wheeze fell from Sasuke's lips as he struggled to protect his abdomen with a broken arm and a bleeding gash, but he knew it was futile. Sasori prowled around him, cornering him, tormenting him.

The distinct ring of a blade being unsheathed sounded in his ears and Sasori grabbed Sasuke by the hair again, yanking him upright. Sasuke struggled to see through his swollen eyes as Sasori pressed the steel against his neck. All around him, there was only smoke and fire, destruction and chaos, damage and death.

An agonizing pain razed his nerves as he was forced on his knees, radiating from every cell in his body until he was consumed, until it was all he knew and all he was. He was already close to losing consciousness, the pain no longer concentrated to each abrasion or laceration on his body, but instead an encompassing sensation. His chest rattled with his final breaths, the force of every inhale like a knife through his lungs.

And through his muddled vision, he could see the encroaching black, but he could not discern if it was the darkness coming to save him, or the Akatsuki looming to claim him. Yet, what perturbed him most of all was the infinite indifference he felt either way. The pain was all he knew, all he was, and so he prayed for relief. He prayed for salvation.

He prayed for death. . .

His fingers twitched as he felt for the leather pouch hitched to his trousers; it was still there. He was ready. It was his time. His family awaited him - his brother, his father, his mother - and one day, far from then, far from that moment - far from the pain and the uncertainty and the fear - he would see her again. She would greet him with that arresting smile, with that wicked gleam in her eye, and with a kiss that would silence his disturbed mind. One day. _One day._

Sasuke felt the blade slide across his skin as it was drawn back to strike, and the darkness welcomed him home.


	28. Chapter 28

She knew she was alone, but she could feel the phantom grip of his hands on her hips even then. She smiled as she blinked her eyes open. The little bit of light seeping into her room was like a torch illuminating every spot that they had claimed with their lovemaking. As she curled her fingers around the sheet beneath her, she felt the raw sting of her hands from where she had held tight to the mantle of the fireplace. Shifting her legs under the silk covering her, she winced as she felt the sweet burn of her overused muscles. There was a palpable ache between her legs, the aftermath of his unforgiving and insatiable penetration.

She arched her spine as she stretched across her large bed, a sharp crack alleviating the stiffness in her bones; she had spent most of the night writhing and twisting in pleasure, moving and undulating in ways her body never had before. Sakura rolled her neck, feeling the pinch in her shoulder blades and the tenderness of the bruises and bites on her skin.

For all the pain, she could get used to it, she thought, waking up like that. Wistfully, she petted the spot beside her. Of course, she would like to wake up with him, twisting into his arms, stirring him with a lurid kiss, inciting their carnal desires so that they might indulge within each other once more.

 _One day_ , she thought hopefully, the elation from the previous night leaving no room for doubt or impossibilities of their future. She was certain of it now, more certain than she ever had been about anything in her life, more certain than she was even just hours ago when they had exchanged their love for each other.

She could never be with another.

She belonged to Sasuke now; his marks upon her body were as much proof as his imprint upon her heart, and that thought was enough to place an elated smile on her face. Somewhere, in some primal place within her, she felt that they had claimed each other. In a manner that transcended hushed words and feeble promises, they had joined themselves together. Her cheeks flushed as she thought, _over and over again_.

Sakura rose from her bed with a renewed sense of peace, freedom, and desire. The promise of a new day imbued her with an elation she had not felt in years, or perhaps ever. Even as she went about dressing herself for the day, with no thought nor care towards what she reached into her wardrobe for, she found herself positively giddy over the novelty of it all. Even she, herself, felt new. Every inch of her was changed by his touch, molded by his hands, motivated by his passion, reflective of his love.

 _His love._ She could not control the grin on her face as she pinned her hair up. She could not wait to speak those words to him again, to hear them recited back to her. How was it possible, she wondered, to miss something so much, to desire it so greatly, when it had barely been hours since she had heard it, or felt it? Perhaps _she_ was the insatiable one - at least when it came to him.

Sakura twisted her hair up with the jeweled pins Sasuke had removed earlier. Though she secured them in her hair for anyone to see, it felt like it was their own little secret, something that she could carry with her, that she could reach up and touch, a tangible reminder of their time together to tide her over until the evening.

She did not have to look in the mirror to know she looked like a fool; a grinning, besotted, wistful fool. But she could not bring herself to care. She had him now and she would not sacrifice him for all of the world. If that made her greedy, so be it. His words were hers alone to revel in, his touch was hers to bask in, his eyes were hers to gaze into longingly, lovingly, eternally. Not status, nor war, nor family could change that for her. She only hoped that he understood that now, too, especially after the night they had just shared.

* * *

The sun did not bear down on her as she exited her rooms that morning, rather it seemed to glow favorably upon her countenance. It was a welcome respite from how harsh the summer had been thus far. As she passed the gardens, she did not look for him, knowing that he was likely training with the new recruits out in the fields. She would see him come nightfall, but until then she would only be causing her own torture. So she carried herself to her mother's sitting room and burst through the threshold with a beaming smile on her face.

"Mother, Ladies," Sakura nodded to each of them as she strode inside.

"Sakura, darling," Mebuki beckoned her forward, elated at the sight of her daughter, "We were just discussing what we would do today."

"Anything," Sakura rushed forward to sit with them at the table, "Perhaps we should have a feast for lunch in the gardens. It is such a lovely day."

"As long as we can find some shade," Ino griped, fanning herself, "I have spent too many days out in this unbearable heat."

"I bet you would do it if that soldier was out there," Karin teased, but Ino's expression suddenly turned to one of utter dismay.

"Alas, he told me he is part of the regiment traveling to the front," she said glumly, shoulders slumping, "I doubt very much that I will see him again."

"Oh, Ino," Sakura reached for her hand solemnly, a genuine concern for her friend's wellbeing taking over her features, "I am so sorry. When does he leave?"

"He has left already. This morning," she sighed and squeezed Sakura's fingers with her own, exchanging a grateful smile. Sakura made a note to herself that she would have to ask Sasuke about that that evening. She had not known the new troops would be leaving so soon, but she was hopeful for what it meant. Perhaps they could finally gain control of the war after so many years of imbalance. Perhaps they would finally know peace.

And in that peace, hope.

"Well, put it out of your mind," Mebuki said softly, soothingly, "We shall have a day of celebration instead."

"I think that is a splendid idea," Tenten chimed in. She turned her eyes on Ino and Karin with a pointed look, "We shall have no talk of boys, either."

"Yes, just us girls," Hinata agreed eagerly.

"Easy for you to say," Karin huffed, "Those of us who remain unspoken for," she nudged Sakura playfully, who could not help but simper at her words, "Have nothing better to do."

"I believe Tenten is right," Sakura quipped, though she knew that not even a sidelong glance or a brash comment directed at Sasuke from one of her ladies could alter her mood, "It will be a nice change, don't you think?"

"We shall die of boredom," Ino joked, wiggling a brow at Sakura, "If we cannot gossip about Hibiki-san, whatever will we talk about?"

Suddenly, Sakura blanched and her gaze whipped to her mother's curious eyes.

"Oh?" Mebuki's brows rose, "Has Hibiki-san finally expressed his interest?"

"Not in so many words," Sakura said hastily, causing Karin and Ino to laugh sharply at the falsehood, "What I mean to say is he has written me some letters, but there is hardly a noblemen here who has not."

"Hibiki-san is not a vocal man," Karin simpered and Ino nodded her head fervently. Meanwhile, Hinata watched Sakura carefully, her mouth tilting to a frown as the girls gossiped to Mebuki. To her shrewd eye, Sakura's pallor was evidence enough of her discomfort, but the others seemed not to notice it one bit.

"He prefers to _show_ his affections, does he not?" Ino glanced at Sakura, cheeky and oblivious.

"Hibiki-san has doted upon you?" Mebuki asked slowly, confusion marring her visage as she struggled to think why her daughter would fail to mention a detail of such significance.

Before Sakura could push the words from her slackened jaw, Karin spoke excitedly,

"Did she not show you the necklace he just bought her?"

"Absolutely ravishing," Ino said enviously. Hinata's eyes widened slightly; she still was not entirely aware of what had been going on between Sakura and Hibiki, but she could only assume her friend's palid color and hesitation to speak had something to do with the intimate questions they had exchanged just a short while ago over dinner. It must be him, Hinata thought. Something had to have happened between the two of them that was making Sakura act so abnormally aloof.

"I must have missed it," Mebuki fixed her daughter with a stare that caused Sakura's eyes to drop to her lap where she wrung her hands together, "Has he given you other gifts?"

"A new coat, wasn't it?" Tenten asked, ignorant to her friend's plight.

"Two in the last month!" Karin chimed in.

"And the most beautiful jewels to match!" Ino squealed.

"How generous of him," Mebuki mercifully let Sakura out from under her accusing gaze to regard the others at the table, "I understand that his father's passing has brought him into a considerable amount of wealth. Any woman would be lucky to be in his sights."

Sakura bowed her head, a sudden sense of shame befalling her. She did not like to be so dishonest with her mother, but at that moment, she was unsure how she would go about informing her parents of Sasuke. She could not avoid it forever, but she supposed it was something she would have to navigate _with_ him. She supposed it was something they would do together. Something that they _had_ to do together.

"Sakura-chan, might I borrow you for a moment?" Hinata asked quietly, drawing only the attention of Tenten briefly.

"Of course," Sakura nodded, grateful for the distraction, and they rose from the table together. Hinata led her by the hand to the other end of the room, near the front doors and out of earshot of the guards.

"Are you all right?" Worry creased Hinata's soft features and she clasped Sakura's hand in hers.

"O-Of course," Sakura seemed taken aback by the question, but gave her a reassuring smile nonetheless, "Are you?"

"Yes, yes," Hinata assured her, pausing in uncomfortable silence, then bowed her head, "Forgive me."

"Do not think on it," Sakura shook her head, feigning nonchalance, but she knew Hinata was not as naive as she might appear to be. Sakura was grateful for her friendship, but perhaps it had been unwise of her to be so forward in her questions when they had dined together. Sakura could see the suspicions she had raised within Hinata, whose eyes had risen once more to inspect her. With a polite smile, an attempt to allay whatever assumptions she might have about the situation at hand, Sakura made to turn away when Hinata said suddenly,

"M-Might I ask why it is you have not told your mother about Hibiki-san?"

Sakura's jaw dropped at her brazen query and she stammered for a response, a lie, anything.

"H-Has he done something?" Hinata's cheeks reddened with every word she uttered, "He has not h-hurt you, has he?"

"No," Sakura balked, "How could you say such a thing?"

"I am sorry, Haruno-sama," Hinata shook her head vehemently. As she continued to speak, she kept her eyes to the floor, "I-I feared something might have happened between you two when you inquired about such an, mm, i-intimate subject. A-And you have seemed most distracted lately, at least since - since his return - ,"

"Please, Hinata-chan," Sakura held a hand up to silence her babbling, "He has done nothing so sordid and I would never suggest such a thing where it concerns him," she breathed deeply to calm herself, "I have resolved to inform my mother of these things in due time. Though we can infer his intentions, the fact remains that he has yet to be clear about them. I would rather know his ambitions explicitly before involving my mother and her enthusiasm for such a prospect that may not even come to fruition."

"I see," Hinata lifted her gaze slowly and nodded in understanding, "Forgive me, S-Sakura-chan. I am concerned only for your wellbeing."

"And I am grateful for that," Sakura placed a hand on Hinata's shoulder and smiled sweetly at her, "You need not worry yourself. With time, all things are made clear."

Tonight, she would talk with Sasuke. Together they would formulate a plan to announce their love and seek her parents' blessing; she could wait no longer. Of course, there was the matter of his heritage, but Sakura would never subject him to their judgements. Though she loved him and accepted him, she could not guarantee her parents would feel the same. In fact, she knew that they would not. But if that meant that they would live the remainder of their lives under the guise of Uzumaki, so be it. It would be their burden to bear now - no longer his alone.

"Yes, of course," Hinata returned her smile and excused herself back to the table. Sakura watched her retreat and caught Mebuki's wandering eye. She was not looking forward to the stern tongue lashing her mother would inevitably give her, but she hoped Mebuki would understand when Sakura told her the truth. The nobility of the Haruno ancestry spanned generations, never disobeying the law that they must marry within an aristocratic family - that they must marry for power, for wealth, for the empire.

 _Until now_ , Sakura thought proudly before returning to join their party.

* * *

The gardens were alive with the sound of gleeful gossip and clinking glasses, a jovial cacophony that announced their celebrations. Mebuki had arranged for the kitchen staff to cook a special lunch and had sent for a table and chairs to be assembled beneath a large tree beside the vastly empty training fields. Sakura thought little of the vacancy of the grounds as she looked off into the distance; she supposed that if the troops had departed that morning, then Sasuke might not have much to do in the coming days. A smile was brought to her face as she imagined that things might finally return to normal for them. He could resume his post as her personal guard during the days, while spending the evenings with her once again, playing games, sparring, talking, and engaging in other, more libidinous activities.

_He slipped inside her slowly, allowing her to feel him stretch her an inch at a time._

Her cheeks flushed at the thought.

They could finally look to the future, and this time, she would not let him blink. Though he had never let her fantasies wander far, there was no doubting the love she had seen in his eyes, felt through his touch, and heard from his lips last night. She was certain that, if given the chance, he would choose her and she wanted to show him that he would not regret such a choice. Sakura did not know how yet, but she would make her parents understand. She would make them see the man that he was, that she knew him to be. Of course, he had saved her life twice, and that, in itself, had to count for something.

As her gaze roamed back to the table, she caught sight of Lee not far off. He was looking over at her with a timid smile and Sakura realized that not even _his_ presence could dampen her spirits that day. Finally, all was right in her world again and, soon, her love for Sasuke would be common knowledge. She would no longer have to subject herself to the idle affections of various courtiers, because she would be, once and for all, spoken for. So she held Lee's eyes for a moment and smiled brightly at him. She laughed to herself as she thought of her outburst at him after her visit to the infirmary during Sasuke's stay.

Perhaps she owed him an apology, once everything was through. He had been right after all.

* * *

Sakura had barely bid her ladies farewell after their luncheon, when her mother descended on her in a frenzy.

"You did not tell me Hibiki-san has been courting you," Mebuki took hold of her daughter's wrist and pulled her back towards the tree they had eaten beneath, away from the guards stationed to them, "Has he asked for your hand? It is very improper of him to not consult with us first."

"No, mother, he has not," Sakura struggled out of her grasp, irritated already at the direction of the conversation, "He has sent me letters like any other suitor. It is only recently that I have begun to receive gifts from him."

"How many?" Her mother pressed.

"I do not know," Sakura sighed, folding her arms over her chest.

"How many, Sakura?" Mebuki asked again.

"I have lost count," she said wearily, shrugging her shoulders airily, "He has given me slews."

Mebuki gasped.

"You should have told us sooner. There is a proper way to go about these things, darling," Mebuki was trying to keep her voice level while excitement and agitation roiled in her stomach. Her daughter should have known better, but was she a terrible mother for not noticing their involvement? "We must consult with your father in this. If Hibiki-san means to ask for your hand, we must begin preparations right away."

"Mother, please," Sakura sighed, "He has said nothing of the sort to me."

"He does not need to say it with words!" Mebuki chastised her, "He has made it quite clear if you ask me," her brows furrowed, fixing Sakura under a strict stare, "That necklace you were wearing the other day - was it from your father, or from him?"

Sakura swallowed thickly and bowed her head, ashamed.

"It was not from Father," she admitted, averting her eyes.

"Why did you not tell me?" Mebuki pulled her daughter into a tight hug, an alighted expression on her face, "This is a joyous thing."

"Mother," Sakura said hesitantly, clutching Mebuki and hiding her face in her hair, "What if I do not wish to marry Hibiki-san?"

"Does he displease you?" she asked, concerned as she stroked her daughter's back.

"No, he is a fine man, but," Sakura chewed her lip, pondering carefully, "I do not think he is meant for me."

"Sakura, darling," Mebuki pushed against Sakura's shoulders gently so that she could look into her daughter's eyes, "You are a brilliant young woman. Your maturation surpasses your years, but you _are_ of age - you have been for some time. It has been difficult for us to arrange something for you given the state of our world - for that I can only apologize on behalf of circumstance - but it is time that we start thinking of these things and, perhaps, even begin to help this process along."

"But, mother, I - ,"

"I know it can be a daunting thing, as it should be, but you must think of it as a new adventure. One that you will embark on with your husband by your side," Mebuki clutched her daughter's hands in hers and smiled brightly, "You will see."

"Mother, I do not want Hibiki-san," Sakura said fiercely, something flashing in her emerald orbs that startled the matriarch.

"Is it Lee-san?" Mebuki's brows rose in surprise as the notion popped into her head, "I thought you did not - ,"

"No, it is not Lee," Sakura shook her head. Mebuki set her shoulders back and exhaled softly. She kept her tone reserved as she spoke,

"Darling, you should know your father had the idea that Gaara-san might be a suitable match for you," she did not miss the flicker of shock in her daughter's face, "He is only a little older than you and a formidable ally to our nation," Mebuki forced a smile as she uttered her next words, the thought disparaging her, "We could arrange for you to meet him, perhaps you could spend a few months at his court."

"I do not want that," Sakura pulled herself free, taking a step back. Her skin felt clammy despite the arid wind. She had not wished to have this conversation so soon, or without consulting Sasuke first, but she supposed there was no better time, "I would like to marry someone of my choosing."

Mebuki's shoulders drooped and she folded her hands together in front of her as she attempted to restrain herself.

"And who would that be?"

Sakura opened her mouth, but could not push his name past her lips. She shook her head and tried to articulate her thoughts in another way,

"If he wanted to marry me, would you and father accept?"

"Sakura, who is he?" Mebuki narrowed her eyes.

"Would you?" She questioned sharply.

" _Who is he_?" Mebuki straightened herself, exuding the rigidity of a mountain and the force of a mother.

"He is good enough for me, is that not sufficient?" Sakura hissed, cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment and anger.

"You are my daughter," Mebuki reminded her, "I want only what is best for you. But as your mother and a ruler of this empire, there are certain things that I must do to ensure your safety and the safety of our legacy. One day you will have to make this choice for your children and I hope then that you will understand the greatness of such a burden."

"Mother," Sakura sighed and bowed her head; her protest dying on her lips.

"We can not all be so lucky as your father and I," a rare, saccharine smile graced Mebuki's features as she gazed upon her daughter, "We did not fall in love right away, but as we came to know each other, we could not deny the depth of our feelings for one another. I can say with sincerity today that there is no other man who could replace your father in my heart. And he gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for," Mebuki stretched her arms out and Sakura ran into her embrace, tears pricking her eyes, "To be a mother," her voice quavered as she held Sakura tightly, "I often think of what might have been were Seiichi still alive. My boy would be married now, with his own children."

Sakura was clinging to her mother desperately, a wound she'd been nursing her whole life now more raw than the day it was born.

"You would have been the best aunt, darling," Mebuki said softly, a hand coming up to rest on the back of Sakura's head.

"Why do you never talk about him so?" The thickness in her throat made it difficult to push her query out.

"To lose a child is the greatest suffering," there was a startling monotony present in Mebuki's tone, as though she had spent years repeating the same sentiment over and over again, at least to herself, "You and your father are so alike. It is a good thing, because you do not cling to the pains of the past; you grieve them. You understand them. Not everyone is gifted with such power. Those of us who are not are tormented in silence. We become so entwined with our own pain that it grows to be a part of us until we can not live without it. We do not know how to use it to help us grow and learn and love. So we keep it within, we let it consume us, reliant on its presence, and believe that it is an affliction to feel anything without its misery."

"Mother," Sakura's voice broke; she had not known Mebuki carried such anguish with her everyday, but she suspected she had known another to carry a similar pain, "I am so sorry."

"Hush, darling," Mebuki said soothingly, "You have nothing to be sorry for. _I_ am sorry that we could not protect you and your brother better. If he were still here, he could have helped you shoulder some of this burden. You could have ruled beside each other, balancing the power between your strength and his strategy," she sighed, the weight of such a loss still as heavy as the day it had arrived within her, "And then you might have been able to marry as you please - to an extent."

Sakura was silent; all this she knew. She had spent so many nights dwelling on what might have been had her love's brother not been the one to swing the sword against her own kin. It was an odd feeling to have hated Itachi for a death she scarcely remembered, but it was even more surreal to despise him for the repercussions the action continued to subject her to. Even worse was the despair she felt when faced with the inevitability that the past could not be changed. No matter how desperately she wished to try.

"Who is he, darling?" Mebuki asked again. Sakura stiffened in her hold, arms rigid like steel around her mother and her eyes listlessly cast to the trunk of the tree in front of her. She took a breath.

"Nobody."

* * *

Sakura did not want to speak to Sasuke about such dreadful topics. She did not want to ruin what could be a perfectly pleasant evening by drudging up their pasts or casting doubt on their futures. She only wanted to fall into bed with him and forget the horrid talk she had had with her mother earlier that day. She needed him to remind her that it did not matter what happened before or after, as long as they had each other in that moment. Her belief was firm in that their love could conquer and heal and flourish; that it was enough. A feeling so powerful could not be overcome so easily.

And a love so deep could not be displaced without tearing it up by its very roots.

So Sakura waited. And waited. And waited.

But he never came. It had been hours and Sakura had taken to pacing the length of her bedroom, nearly wearing a path in her floor. Where was he? Of all the nights to disappear on her - well, tonight was one of the worst; she _needed_ him. She needed his tender touches and burning kisses and blistering words. She needed his desire, his promises, his reassurance.

She needed to forget - the past, the present, the future. She needed to exist only in the space that they occupied together. To exist in the cloud of ecstasy that their passion gifted them, the same cloud that precluded the world around them until there was no eternal war, no damnable heritage, and no cruel certainties.

But when she crossed her window yet again, dawn had begun to break and her heart sank.

_Where was he?_

* * *

Come the full sunrise, Sakura was seated on the stone bench in the gardens, her guards in close proximity. Despite their looming stature, her distracted mind had succeeded in blocking them from her immediate attentions; she was far too busy thinking of other things to pay them any mind.

She twirled her wagasa idly as she looked out over the lake. The glimmer of her koi caught her eye as they swam beneath a ray of light and she found herself longing for that cold winter morning when he'd helped her up from the icy ground. When the lake had been frozen over and the trees hung heavy with the freshly fallen snow. When the war was only a point on the horizon, obscured by the burgeoning infatuation with the man she had yet to know. With a secret smile, she recalled how stiff and cautious he had been around her at the beginning. She had always suspected there was something more beneath his stoic exterior, but she had not anticipated the passion laying dormant within him, waiting to be awoken.

To be awoken by her.

"Haruno-sama," Hibiki was striding towards her, a broadening grin overtaking his face. Sakura rose to greet him with a constrained smile. She glanced briefly at her guards, ensuring that their adjacency had not widened. She felt a distinct unease as he approached her and though she knew it was not entirely his fault, that her mother's conversation was mostly the cause for it, she still resolved to keep her distance. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her wagasa as she held it over her; that seemed as good an excuse as any to not extend him her hand.

"Hibiki-san," she bowed her head as he came upon her, "How are you this morning?"

"Well, and you?"

"Very well, thank you," Sakura noted how his eyes seemed to take her in piece by piece, as though he were taking stock of her attire, and she realized that he must be searching for any one of the gifts he had bestowed upon her. Sakura's cheeks flushed and she ducked her head, embarrassed at the state of herself; she had not donned any that day and she suddenly felt very guilty for insulting him so indirectly. The art of courting, and being courted, was one she could admit freely to herself that she was unquestionably incompetent in - though it was not for lack of instruction. With a pacifying smile, she asked, "Would you care to join me for a walk?"

"Certainly," he nodded and let Sakura lead him on the path around the gardens. Silently, she hoped that Sasuke was nowhere nearby where he might happen upon them. She could explain it later of course, and she was sure he would understand, but it would be better to avoid such a conversation altogether. He had been so understanding about the necklace, but less so about the letter from Lee - the contents of which were still, and would forever be, unknown to her. She could forgive him for that now. She had tasted jealousy where he was concerned and it was a foul, bitter thing.

Yet, she assuaged herself with the notion that they would not have to endure these things much longer. She just needed to speak with Sasuke, figure out the best course of action, then she would never again have to entertain the men at her father's court and he would never again have to watch her waltz around a room with another man on her arm. Subduing a smile, Sakura turned her head to the lake.

"Your family, how are they?" She asked politely.

"Safe," he said gladly, "Safe and healthy. They will be traveling soon, in fact."

"Oh?"

"Yes, for a reprieve from the war - and from their grief."

Sakura spared him a glance, a doleful regard for his loss and his family's.

"A reprieve," she repeated slowly, "What a luxury," at his silence, she reprimanded herself, "Forgive me. I do not mean to say that I would trade my family for a moment away from this war, but I - well," she shook her head and returned her gaze forward, embarrassed by her admission, "I do not know."

"Haruno-sama," he cleared his throat and she saw him tense in her peripheral, "I can not take you away from all of this," he gestured flippantly around them, as though the grand structures and extravagant grounds were trifling trinkets rather than the very walls that enclosed them, "It is your birthright, after all."

"Yes, of course," Sakura clenched the handle of her wagasa anxiously. She was unsure of what exactly he was hoping to say, but every word uttered thus far had beset an unease in her stomach.

"And perhaps I have not been so forthright with you, at least in this matter, but I could ease your burdens," he stopped on the trail, forcing Sakura to pause with him. She swept her eyes along the dirt beneath their feet before dragging them up to his gaze.

"Is that so?" She swallowed uncomfortably, her palms and neck perspiring under his consideration, "I am afraid I do not understand. Please, do not mistake my qualms for discomfort. It is a difficult world we live in, a difficult time, but then - it is only time, isn't it? All things pass."

"Yes, of course," he seemed to falter at her response, though a reticent smile remained on his face, "I only mean to offer my services to you."  
"Your services?" She nearly laughed at the word, but managed to compose herself promptly.

"Certainly," he squirmed under her scrutiny as he said, "I often find that when my sisters are in a dreadful way that nothing quite cheers them up like a new coat or a shiny brooch."

"Ah," Sakura tossed her head back and laughed, though he could not say with confidence what it was that she found so humorous, "You portend that my troubles may be effaced from my mind for a price."

"You make it sound so simple," he protested.

"Oh?" Sakura's brow rose and she twirled her wagasa thrice in her hands, "Well I will offer you this - any manner of jewels that glitter and shine may amuse me for a short while. Your gifts have been most gracious and I will assure you that I have enjoyed every one. I daresay your taste far exceeds my own."

"And yet?" He prompted her, his shoulders sagging. Sakura inhaled sharply, her body going rigid as they stood in the expanse of the gardens, exposed to the day. She could be honest or altruistic, but the two were not mutually exclusive. In her honesty, there lay only a painful truth that, undoubtedly, one day, he would come to know. One day, when she and Sasuke were free to walk about the palace, arm in arm, heart in heart. One day, soon.

But in her concern for not only his sentiments, but also the stability of Hibiki's pride as well, she could not be truthful. She could not dissuade him from his pursuance, nor his affections, nor his benevolence. She could only stand silently by as he continued to explore a path that would lead him nowhere. _A wasted effort_ , she thought, but Sakura held her tongue and conducted herself with all the regality and authority she could muster.

"And yet, I have nothing more to say," her voice was level and considerate as she addressed him, but firm in her position, "I have owed you my gratitude for some time and I wish you would accept it now. Please."

Hibiki straightened himself and peered at her curiously, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He bowed his head quickly before lifting it back up to look at her.

"You are most welcome, Haruno-sama," briefly, her gaze dropped to his hands that flexed at his sides nervously, "Forgive me for not being more direct with you."

"In what?" She swallowed stiffly. His eyes crinkled at the sides as that smile finally broke free across his face.

"In everything."

* * *

"I do not think this is the right time," Mebuki stood before the grand window in her empty sitting room, the courtiers having been dispersed elsewhere and the only occupants that remained being her and her husband. In a rare display of her intemperate emotions, Mebuki fidgeted with the jewels at her neck as she chewed her lip, "It is too soon."

"Too soon?" Kizashi balked at her from his position beside the dormant fireplace, seated comfortably in a large leather chair, "Just a fortnight ago you were telling me how enthused you were about the idea. Am I to be faulted for attempting to make my wife happy now?"

She shot him a scathing glare as she turned to face him.

"If you had consulted me in this, perhaps I would feel differently," she said steadily, "I can recall many an occasion where you have paid me compliments with your pretty words about the capacities of my mind and the thoughts that occupy it. Well, now my mind has changed. Would you take back those sentiments simply because I have found the sense to adapt my stance on this situation?"

Kizashi swallowed thickly and folded his hands over his stomach as he regarded the menacing figure before him.

"Certainly not," he said hastily, "I only wonder what could have possessed you to change your mind when you were once so resolute."

"I can not say," she said flippantly.

"It is a mystery then?" Kizashi peered at her, bemused and with a mocking note to his words.

"I can not say," Mebuki repeated slowly, her gaze fixing on her husband, "Because Sakura will not tell me."

Kizashi straightened in his chair, hands coming to clench the armrests at his sides.

"Tell you what?"

Mebuki shook her head lightly.

"Did you know that she is being courted by Hibiki-san?"

"Hibiki-san?"

"Jewels, garments, letters," Mebuki threw her hands up in exasperation, "But not a word about it. If Ino-chan had not mentioned him, I daresay we would never have known. I was aware of his affections, to a degree, but," she broke off with a sharp exhale, "And then there is Lee-san, though I would wager my best rubies he will never act on his feelings in such a way."

Kizashi rolled his eyes in an excessive manner.

"Darling, it is no fault of ours that these men have made no formal word to us for her hand. Cowards, the lot of them."

"But she has," Mebuki's gaze strayed to the window briefly and she clasped her hands tightly together, knuckles whiting with the force of her own hold, "Sakura has."

"About Hibiki-san?" Kizashi was inching ever closer to the edge of his seat, poised to spring to his feet as soon as his wife said the word.

"No," she said solemnly, "And not about Lee."

"Then who?"

"She will not say," Mebuki's voice quieted, "She insists he is nobody."

"Nobody of consequence?"

"Nobody of existence."

Kizashi was silent for a long moment, digesting the improbably perplexing predicament they now found themselves in. He knew his daughter was willful, acting often on passion rather than rumination; just as he had done at her age. The difference was that he had been given opportunities that had been taken from her before he could stop them. The war, his son, all of it had ensured Sakura would be set on a strict path to secure the longevity of the Haruno empire. It was her duty and hers alone, though it sickened Kizashi to his core that he had to consider his daughter as currency for their family's future, but such was the way of the world. If she did not marry into affluence, their empire would crumble and, long after he and Mebuki were gone, it would leave Sakura destitute.

"Darling," Kizashi spoke hesitantly, "It is too late to rescind the offer," Mebuki raised her eyes slowly, a despairing resolution set within them, "Gaara is already on his way. He will be expecting a bride upon his arrival."

"Of course."

"There is nothing to be done now, but to prepare."

"I suppose he will be expecting a lavish welcome as well."

"There are worse things than to be planning these festivities."

"Mark me," Mebuki stewed quietly, "I take no pleasure in entertaining anyone who profits from my family's misfortunes."

"Come now," Kizashi chastised her, "A union such as this will be beneficial for all. He is only doing what is right for his nation, just as we are."

"And what about our daughter?" She snapped.

"Do not be mistaken," Kizashi said heavily, his words grave in a way that was so rarely heard from him, "If we were at all in a position to sustain our empire without the assistance of a marriage - if we were not so disadvantaged in this war to begin with - I would guarantee she die an old spinster. I could not even conjure a man well enough in my dreams that would suffice for her. Lee, Hibiki, Gaara - they are all the same. They could never be enough for our daughter, but it would do her well to obtain _something_ from her own union. Would you not agree?"

Mebuki's silence spoke for her. She knew all this, but it did not change her disposition towards the situation one bit. It did not appear to change her husband's either, for they both knew that they owed Gaara a great deal, particularly if the war ended in their favor. So it did not matter what any of them wanted - not Kizashi, not Mebuki, not even Sakura, despite any notion in her mind of other plans.

All that mattered were the circumstances that brought them here. And the ones that had already determined their future.

* * *

Sakura fingered the hilt of her brother's blade, a volatile pulse thrumming in her veins as she watched her reflection in the smooth steel. She remained starkly unsettled by the course of the day and, with the moon at its highest point in the sky already, her mood had not improved one bit. A desperation had taken residence within her, a feeling that she was familiar with, and she knew that while there was only one person who could cure such desperation, there was one thing that might quell it.

But if she took off in the night to the forests to unleash some of her festering anxieties, she might miss Sasuke's attempt to visit her rooms - even if he did seem to be taking great leisure to return to her. Deep within, seeding its doubt, she recognized the same fears from their time apart resurfacing. With a fervent shake of her head, she stuffed them down, returned the sword to its scabbard, and shoved it beneath her bed.

He would return to her. Whether it was that night, the next, or the one after, he would return to her. And when he did, there was much they had to discuss. Between his shallow breaths and the quiet rasp of her voice, when he had thoroughly renewed the sweet burn between her legs and she had exhausted the muscles in his limbs, they would have to talk. They would have to face the challenges ahead.

As if in response, her thighs trembled the longer she knelt on the floor. She could still feel him - around her, against her, inside of her. He was everywhere. So even when he was not there with her, he was.

He had left a piece of himself in that room, so he _would_ return. He had to.

She clung to that faith as she fell asleep, hunched over her bed, while the sun rose.

* * *

Hinata had stood a fair distance back earlier that day, watching Sakura and Hibiki speak closely. She still had not made sense of the inquiries and maladies that plagued her friend. Although, the evidence that had been before her might have suggested that she had her answer. Yet, something did not sit right with Hinata and for that, she could not pacify her curiosity. Sakura's apparent adversity to her prodding had certainly not helped matters and she could only hope that she had not soured their friendship any further.

Despite it all, Hinata still attempted to convince herself otherwise. It was entirely possible that she was seeing something that quite simply was not there. It was entirely possible that she was merely projecting her own strife upon Sakura to ease her loneliness. It was entirely possible that nothing whatsoever would come of her scrutiny.

But then, it was entirely possible that none of that was true.

* * *

The next morning, Sakura's patience had worn to nearly nothing. An odd jumble of both carnal and emotional deprivation constricted her until it was all that she knew. Her body felt starved - sore and bruised and ravaged, but aching for his attention again. It was not so different from her heart, the cavern of which became bottomless at the prospect of his affections.

 _What an odd thing_ , she thought, to have lost, given up, had stolen, the autonomy over her mind, body and soul. Even more puzzling to her, was how heedless she had been of the consequences. It had seemed such an ancillary thing, a symptom of their love, a product of the inevitable. But he was supposed to be at her side, he was supposed to belong to her, just as she did to him.

With a steadying breath, she attempted to calm her frayed nerves as she rounded the lake for the umpteenth time. The training grounds were clearly visible to her, only a few men occupying the space, and his absence had served to incense her. Where could he possibly be? And why had he not revealed himself to her since their tryst?

Surely he did not regret it. . .

No.

_No._

Sakura paused beside the stone bench as a hawk soared overhead. She followed it carefully, watching its journey over the lake and beyond the palace walls until it had flown out of sight. _How lucky_ , she thought.

"Haruno-sama."

Sakura whipped around and found Lee a few respectable paces from her.

"Lee-san," she offered him a modest smile, but he drank it in like the rain after a drought. It had been some time since they had had an amicable encounter and she could see the relief in his stature at her greeting. Despite Sasuke's absence for the time being, she found her resolve renewed with every courtier that faced her. Once more, she was coveting a secret that only she and Sasuke shared.

"You look," he floundered for some form of flattery, perhaps sifting through every word he had already spoken to her in the hopes that he might uncover some new, pretty sentiment - something that would undo everything he'd said to her before that moment.

But she did not give him the chance.

"Thank you," Sakura said politely.

"Uh - Have you been well?"

"I have. And you?"

"Indeed. Although, if I may say - ,"

"Haruno-sama," a guard approached them swiftly, "Your mother and father have requested to speak with you."

"Oh, I see," Sakura nodded to the man and regarded Lee once more, "Please excuse me."

As merciful as the reprieve of her parents' summons was, she could not help but feel just a twinge of compassion for Lee. He did not know any better, none of them did. Silently, she hoped that tonight would be the night for Sasuke's visit. She did not know how much longer she could put up with it all and she needed to speak to him first, before she made any rash decisions.

* * *

Mebuki averted her eyes as Sakura entered Kizashi's study. An unease born of doubt and guilt had crept up the back of her throat, sealing her mouth shut. She had not spoken to her daughter since learning that there might be - well, _somebody else_ involved in Sakura's courtship and she did not think she could stand the sight of her daughter's heart breaking at the news they were about to share.

Mebuki could only hope now that Sakura would be receptive to the possibility of Gaara.

"Father, Mother," Sakura bowed as she entered the room and Mebuki gave a brief, imperceptible nod.

"Darling," Kizashi swept his arms out to receive her, "How are you this day?"

"I am - I am well," Sakura shook herself free of the thoughts that plagued her as she embraced her father. Her eyes flickered to Mebuki who remained surreptitiously in the corner of the room, "And you?"

"Nothing could so dampen my spirits today," he said boisterously as they released each other, "I have grand news."

"Oh?" At once, Sakura's spirits lifted, her mind racing towards the prospect that someway, somehow, they had managed to turn the tides of the war already. Perhaps it was over now! Perhaps there could be peace! Perhaps there could be change. . .

"In thanks for his generosity, I have extended an invitation to Gaara from the Sand. We will be hosting him for some time and, upon his arrival, will welcome him with one of your mother's spectacular ceremonies," Kizashi paused for a moment, letting Sakura mull over the information given to her, as well as to let her consider the implications with it. But, she seemed lost, confused, as though such an event had no basis upon her or her life and, as the silence stretched, Mebuki cleared her throat, prompting her husband, "Yes, well, he will come to take part in our revelry, meet our people, and - and indulge in our feasts. You know, I doubt the man has ever eaten a meal as delicious as we can cook here. I boasted quite greatly about our staff and ensured him he would not soon forget so fine a roasted pig."

Kizashi laughed to himself when his blabber had ended.

"Indeed," Sakura forced a smile to her face. There was a thickness in the air, like an acrid smoke that grew to the point of near suffocation. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, "This is wonderful news. I look forward to his arrival."

She bowed before them and turned to make her leave, clenching her hands to fists to stay the tremor of her fingers, desperate to release herself from such an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sakura," her mother's stiff, chilling tone cut through the air and she paused in her steps. Slowly, she faced Mebuki, whose arms had been crossed over her chest either to convey the sternness of her next words or in defense of them, "We have much to do before his arrival. I have arranged for your lessons to resume in the meantime. Though, I have no doubt of your capabilities, a woman can never be too well versed in her etiquette."

"Of course, Mother," Sakura struggled to keep her eyes trained on Mebuki, blinking back the tears before they could form. With every word from her mother's mouth, the walls around her seemed to close in ever more.

"I will speak with Hibiki-san - it is the least I can do for you - and will send the handmaidens to retrieve all of his _gifts_. At the party, you and Gaara will be presented to the court," Mebuki's voice faltered, but she straightened herself swiftly, "As intended to be betrothed."

The word fell with a clamorous bang, splitting the floor beneath Sakura's feet until the chasm under her caused her legs to wobble.

_BETROTHED._

"I," she stuttered and extended a hand out, fingers grasping for something to steady her, but finding nothing, not even her father's hand. In a desperate attempt to right herself, she shifted her footing and straightened her spine, "Betrothed?"

Her parents shared a terse glance, mouths agape as though they had never heard such an absurd notion before, despite just voicing it themselves.

"It is for the best," Mebuki finally said, "For you, for our nation - for everyone."

Sakura's throat ran dry, the words on her tongue burning to ash before she could speak them. Something about Sasuke. She had meant to say _something_ about Sasuke. She was supposed to tell them that - that. . .

She was supposed to tell them. . . Sasuke.

"Yes," Sakura bowed her head, the tears slipping off her lids to flow down her cheeks. Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Of course."

She waited only as long as it took her to draw in a shuddering breath before drawing herself upright.

"Darling," her father's tone was thick with pity and she could hardly stand it. Sakura raised a weak hand, waving off his sympathies. Mebuki started forward, but Sakura stepped back.

"Please, I-I just need a moment," Sakura retreated to the door, fumbling for the handle as the dissonance of her parents' pleas followed her. She stumbled outside, clutching a hand over her mouth as she attempted to compose herself. It was still early in the day, the courtyard was bustling with activity, and she did not wish for anyone to see her in such a diminished state.

Sasuke. Where was Sasuke?

He could fix this all. He could make it right. He could give her the strength she needed to defy her parents, to defy tradition, to defy even herself.

She needed him.

As the tears subsided and the lump in her throat had vanished, it was slowly replaced with dubiety, denial, and. . . Hope.

_His words were hers alone, his touch was hers to bask in, his eyes were hers to gaze into longingly, lovingly, eternally. Not status, nor war, nor family could change that for her._

It was not over yet.

* * *

Her hair, though unwound and falling down her back, barely stirred in the stagnant air. Sweat gathered between her palm and the hilt of her brother's sword. Her chest swelled against the bindings of her jūnihitoe and her feet had begun to ache from standing on the rough, uneven ground of the forest. A week had passed and she still had not seen Sasuke. A week had passed and the marks on her body had faded. A week had passed and she could no longer feel the sting of his penetration when she parted her legs. A week had passed and she had not spoken to her parents since their announcement.

The anxious palpitations of her heart as she lay awake at night, restless for Sasuke's hold and his words, were becoming too thunderous to ignore.

So, that night, she had resumed the only activity that gave her any peace of mind, body, and spirit. But, even as she stood there, wielding the blade, she could not find the force or the determination to swing it.

Though Sasuke had been absent for far longer than she liked and though it had dampened her temperament almost irreparably, she still had managed to retain the flame of hope in her chest that their love could save her. That their love could dissuade her parents from this betrothal. That their love was enough. Enough to conquer, enough to heal, enough to flourish.

It had to be.

There was enough time before Gaara arrived at the palace for them to figure out a course of action, to devise a plan for the future.

She could not marry a man that was not Sasuke. She could not love a man other than Sasuke. She could not trust another man as much as she did Sasuke.

If he would not reveal himself to her, then she would seek him out. She would take his hand and lead him towards their future; he had to be lurking somewhere.

* * *

Sakura linked her arm with her father's as they strolled along the dirt path around the lake. She had invited him for a walk, a nonchalant proposal to hide her ulterior motive, and he had accepted readily, though largely due to his guilt over how the revelation of her sudden engagement had transpired. It was no matter to Sakura, however. Her forbearance was gone and she would have many choice words for Sasuke when she finally saw him, but that was what drove her to act so demonstrably about the matter. With her visage partially obscured by the wagasa resting over her, she remarked coyly,

"It appears you have stolen my favorite guard."

The Emperor chuckled at the absurdity of such a statement.

"I was not aware you had a favorite."

Sakura could not help but smile at that and nodded gently.

"The Uzumaki," she dipped her head, pretending to admire the bloomed flowers so that she would not have to meet her father's curious eyes, "He humors me."

Kizashi shook his head, puzzled.

"I doubt I have ever seen the man laugh."

"Yes," she agreed with his insinuation, "At first I found him to be rather austere as well. Very much unlike his brother."

"Oh, indeed," Kizashi laughed at something she was unaware of, "Though no less an impressive warrior."

"Certainly," another concealed smile, "We do owe him a great deal."

"I have seen to it that he will be richly rewarded for his services."

"Oh?" Sakura looked up then, heart leaping at her father's words.

"He petitioned me for a new post not long ago, a position where he could fight alongside his brother. He was most enthusiastic about joining our efforts at the front, so I made him a general. By the end of this war, the Uzumakis each will possess a hefty pension to support them through the rest of their lives."

Sakura had not realized her legs had stopped until she felt the tug of her father's arm looped with hers.

"A-A general?" She asked, her voice wavering as she wobbled in place. At once, her skin became clammy and chilled, despite the heat. She thought she could feel sweat running down her cheeks, but maybe those were tears.

"Darling, are you all right?" Kizashi waved the guards over hurriedly. He reached forward to clutch his daughter against him, angling her face up to his gaze and she smiled. She smiled because her heart was breaking, "You are red as a tomato - is it the heat?" He whipped around and shouted, "To the infirmary! Get her to the infirmary now!"

"No," she protested weakly, but the tightening of her throat was making it difficult for her to breathe, "No, I - I just need to go back to my rooms. I-I'm fine, it is only - ,"

Kizashi shushed her as the guards came upon them, one of them scooping her into his arms and carrying her off the path towards the infirmary.

"No, please, I just - ,"

Pain erupted in her chest, burning hotter than any flare of passion or desire she had ever experienced. Like prickly tendrils it branched outward, reaching into the deepest places within her until all she felt was sheer, unfiltered dread - an anxious asphyxiation - an indignant wrath - sheer anguish - It was - it felt like. . .

Betrayal.

_His words were hers alone, his touch was hers to bask in, his eyes were hers to gaze into longingly, lovingly, eternally. Not status, nor war, nor family could change that for her._

But he, he could change that.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to Zelico who so graciously lent her time and effort to edit this chapter and who also let me bounce some ideas off her. THANK YOU to everybody who has been reading and reviewing - I try to reply to all of you, but sometimes it falls by the wayside, so thank you for your continued support!

A well. A pit. Sorrow and anger that knew neither boundaries or depths. It was not tangible, it could not be heard, but it could perhaps be seen in the ways she moved. In the ways she spoke. In the company she kept - that of the comfort of isolation, of solitude, of mourning these past months had been her only solace. What might have been, what had, and what _would be_ were no longer certainties to her. Whatever fleeting and glorious moment of control she had held just a short time ago was gone now. Perhaps if she had been quicker to act. Perhaps if she had not been afraid. Perhaps if she had not let his own fears and trepidations get the better of her. Perhaps things would be different.

But it had been his choice - her father had said that quite clearly.

Maybe he was mistaken, though. Maybe Sasuke had not meant to break her heart. Maybe this was all a dream and she would wake soon, nestled against her love in the safety of her bedroom.

Yet, there, before her very eyes, she found herself staring at the man who had crossed - well, not an ocean, but certainly many lands, to meet her.

He was a poised and handsome man to be sure, and though she had yet to see any of the humor on which her father had remarked, she supposed she would have a lifetime to discover such things and more about him.

As well as a lifetime to learn how to love him.

But as the great hall of courtiers observed them in quiet admiration - this sacred meeting of two that would become one - she felt the words lodging in her throat. She felt the profound rebuke born from her own stubbornness. She felt the final protestation of her battered soul.

* * *

**TWO MONTHS AGO**

The moon hung over Sakura's quarters, but she would not have known with how tightly she had drawn the curtains closed. Her private room was nearly pitch black, not even a dying ember to alight the dreary space around her. After spending all afternoon in the infirmary, a dozen nurses poking and prodding and preaching, she was grateful for the colossal silence that surrounded her. A fainting spell, a touch too much heat, dehydration, fatigue - they were all passable excuses that justified her behavior.

At least to other people.

Sakura drew her legs up onto the bed and rested her cheek against the tops of her knees.

He could be dead.

He could be alone.

He could be laying on the ground with a sword through his back.

Sakura swiped at another tear as it slipped down her ruddy cheeks.

Within the cage of her fear for his safety and for his life, there was a visceral rage locked away. A rage born from not only his abandonment, his desertion, his betrayal, but also from her foolishness, her naivety, her ignorance.

Not for the first time since she had known him, she desired to hate him. It would be so much easier that way, to not feel the pain it was to love him, to long for him, to grieve. . .

He could be dead.

Or he could still be alive.

She hoped he was. She hoped he was still alive so that when the war was over he would return to the palace to find her and she could scream and cry and scold him for leaving her without so much as a word.

Why had he not said anything? How could he not warn her of his departure?

She had trusted him. . .

She had loved him - she _did_ love him. And he loved her. Sakura was sure of that at least. There had been no mistaking that look he had given her. She _believed_ that he loved her, she believed every word he had gifted to her that night - every touch, every kiss, every feeling, _everything_.

Sakura shut her eyes as she clutched her trembling fingers.

But he had been saying goodbye.

He had had no intentions of returning to her, not after that night, maybe not after the war, maybe not ever. . .

She had trusted him and, regardless of his love, he had broken that trust.

There was no fixing that now, even if he did come back.

But, she supposed, that did not matter.

Because he could be alive.

Or he could be dead.

* * *

The patter of rain surrounded Hinata as she traversed the outer corridors towards Sakura's rooms. Since taking ill, there had been little activity within her quarters and Hinata had kept her distance, lest she overwhelm Sakura with too much, too fast. But as her absence continued, Hinata's concern grew until she was compelled to finally visit with her, if only to assure herself that Sakura was still among the living.

The guards stationed in front of her sitting room parted the doors for Hinata and she strode inside quickly, out of the rain. The area was dark, but for the dim ray of light peeking in from between the curtains covering the window. Although, with the heavy clouds and unfavorable weather, it did little to illuminate Sakura's sallow visage and the barely touched plate in front of her. She turned her head at the sound of the doors closing and managed a courteous, half-smile for Hinata.

"Sakura-chan, how are you feeling?"

"Better each day," her voice quavered and she laughed tritely, "Though I can not say the same for my appetite."

"Well," Hinata humored her with a giggle and reached into the pocket of her coat, "Perhaps this will help."

She pulled out a small, dampened piece of linen and uncovered a handful of lychee fruit. A small, but genuine smile broke out across Sakura's face at the sight.

"You are too thoughtful," she said softly and beckoned Hinata forward, "Come sit with me."

"Of course. May I?" Hinata gestured to the drapes and Sakura nodded. She parted the curtains and tied them back, revealing even more of Sakura's haggard form. Hinata took residence in the chair opposite and laid the fruit between them before shucking off her wet coat. Though she wished to, she did not comment on Sakura's disheveled attire, nor the unruly nest of her hair or the disarray of her silks. Instead, she regarded her friend with no less dignity and respect than she ever had, "It is a far cry from the pleasant weather that graced us at our luncheon not long ago."

"Indeed," Sakura's eyes flickered to the water that slid down the glass beside her, "Do you like the rain?"

"I can find joy in it," she said, "It is a cleansing thing. It feels as though it washes away everything that came before it," a blush spread over her cheeks and she ducked her head, "N-Naruto - Never mind."

"Tell me," Sakura bade her, grateful for any distraction, even if she felt a twinge of jealousy at Hinata's ability to speak so freely.

"Well, before he left, h-he would tell me to close my eyes and imagine that each raindrop that touched me was - was a kiss from his lips."

Sakura turned her gaze on Hinata, a sudden revelation striking her; was this how Hinata felt all the time? Was she constantly plagued by the same thoughts and anxieties that hung over Sakura now? Was she always afraid, perpetually, for Naruto's life? She stared intently at her friend's blushing face.

"I would not have considered him to be such a romantic," Sakura remarked lightly and Hinata giggled.

"He has been known to make me blush with just his words on more than one occasion," she admitted, though that itself had caused a flush to creep onto her cheeks. Sakura held a smile for barely a breath before it faltered.

"Hinata-chan," she said meekly, "How is it you have coped for so long without him?"

Hinata sobered quickly with a small shake of her head.

"I-I do not know," her voice was quiet, crestfallen, "It is not a conscious choice, so I am afraid I can not offer you an answer."

Sakura nodded, an understanding and empathy evident in the action and it caused Hinata to pause. She tried to bite her tongue, but the further the silence stretched, the heavier the question became.

"Forgive me, Sakura-chan, I do not wish to make presumptions - m-most especially when I have only listened to these things secondhand - but Ino-chan overheard some of the handmaidens speaking," she chewed her lip, forcing her wavering eyes to meet Sakura's, "Is - Is it true?"

Sakura swallowed roughly, tears pricking her eyes as she struggled to speak.

"Yes," she cursed the tremor of her words and tried to hide the shaking of her fingers, "It is true."

"I am so sorry," Hinata blurted out before she could stop herself. Hastily, she clasped a hand over her mouth, but Sakura's features scrunched in confusion.

"What ever for?"

"I-I did not mean," she stammered, "Sakura-chan, forgive me. It is a joyous thing, I d-did not mean to i-insult you so."

"You have paid me no insult," Sakura shook her head and urged Hinata, "What did you mean by that?"

"I - Well - That is to say, you are in love with Hibiki-san, are you not?" She furrowed her brows as she spoke, "But now you are to be married to another man - to Gaara-san."

"Oh, I see," despite the turmoil within her, Sakura giggled gleefully at the absurdity of the notion. It took her a moment to quiet herself, a moment in which Hinata found herself to be most perplexed, "No. I am not in love with Hibiki-san."

"Oh," Hinata breathed out a relieved, albeit embarrassed laugh, "Forgive me for misunderstanding. I - I should not have assumed such a thing."

"Why Hibiki-san?" Sakura asked curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"Why was it him that you supposed I would be in love with?"

"I have seldom seen you interact with many of the courtiers here - and he has doted on you most ostensibly," Hinata's cheeks burned bright red, "Forgive me, I should have listened to you when you told me so before."

"It is quite all right," Sakura said, bemused, "I. . ."

She trailed off suddenly and bowed her head. She could not speak another word. She _should not_.

"Thank you for bringing these," Sakura gestured to the fruit and smiled gratefully, "And for the company."

"O-Of course," Hinata took the hint and stood quickly. She bowed her head and started for the door, "Please call on me if you need anything."

* * *

For the first time in over a year, Sakura had resumed her lessons; lectures of articulation and diction, afternoons of dancing and conversation, followed by evenings of reading and writing. Her medical journals were shelved and replaced with tomes of poems and prose. Her exhausted mind and beaten heart made her poor company in the small moments of freedom she managed to achieve. Rather than spend them with her ladies or enjoying the last days of summer before fall, she simply retreated to her quarters to hide within her sorrow. She would not come from her bedroom for many days. Most nights she awoke from disturbed dreams, reaching for someone she knew was not there. The ghost of his caress haunted her, the gnawing desire in her heart and between her legs growing to an imperceptible agony. She wept for him each morning, starkly reminded that he was not safe and perhaps could already be lost to her forever.

"Sit up straight."

_Sit up straight._

"Smile."

_Smile! He could be dead. He could be alone._

"Have you practiced your koto?"

"Yes."

She had played barely a note last night before collapsing into a weeping heap atop her bed.

"Good," her tutor commended her, "And your poetry?"

"Yes."

"Recite it for me."

Sakura hesitated, her eyes flitting about the large sitting room despite the fact that its only inhabitants were her and her longtime teacher, Aniko.

"You will be expected to entertain far larger crowds than only I," the lines carved around her mouth that normally brightened her smile now only served to deepen Aniko's frown.

"Yes, of course," Sakura nodded earnestly and took a deep breath.

"Mind your posture."

Sakura straightened herself.

"The valley beyond, within and withou - ,"

"You must articulate better," Aniko strode to the back of the room, "So that I may hear you from all the way over here."

"Without my mind - ,"

"Start from the beginning. Louder."

Sakura tightened her hands into a fist.

"The valley beyond, within and without my mind, where I was - ,"

"Sit up straight."

Sakura exhaled sharply through her nose and adjusted herself in the rigid wooden chair she occupied.

"Where I was - ,"

"From the beginning," Aniko chastised her, "You must learn how to manage all these tasks together - to enunciate, to project, to remain poised and graceful, to captivate your audience. You will be expected to entertain many guests once you are married, just as your mother once did before our borders were closed."

"Of course," Sakura nodded, straightened her back, addressed Aniko squarely, and parted her lips, "The valley beyond, within and without my mind. . ."

* * *

"How is she?"

"Despondent," Hinata said glumly as she and Lee stood beneath the overhang of the open walkway, sheltered from the rain, "She hardly spoke to me. She is not herself."

"And she did not give you reason?" Lee questioned earnestly.

"I did not inquire," she shook her head, "It is not my place."

"But there must be - ,"

"What did h-happen between you two?" Hinata asked quietly, her words rushed, "If I may ask?"

"N-Nothing," he said adamantly, balking at her question, "Nothing. . . Why? Has she mentioned something?"

"Not direc - p-put it out of your mind. I - I am sure I am mistaken."

"Tell me," he implored her, "What did she say?"

"Nothing," Hinata affirmed, "It is my own imagination, I suppose."

"Telling you what?"

She was contemplative as she stood before him, turning over the thoughts that occupied her mind. She did not want to presume anything, most especially not after such an embarrassment earlier, but she had to know.

"She has been promised to Gaara-san," Hinata's hands flew up in haste as Lee sucked in a stunned breath, "You must not utter a word of this! It has not yet been announced!"

"Why? What is the cause? What could - ," Lee huffed a frustrated grumble and spun in a confined circle, "Why now?"

"Are you upset by this news?" Hinata furrowed her brows as she took in the less than subtle reaction he had just exhibited before her.

"Of course I am! I - ," he tightened his fist and raised it in defiance, before lowering it in defeat, "I love her."

"And she loves - ,"

"No," he shook his head forlornly, "Not me."

"But you know wh - ,"

"No."

Lee remained tightlipped. It had not been his secret to find out, nor his to share, and while he had threatened its disclosure, his intentions had only been to divulge the information to Sakura's father, never to expose it to the whole of the court. His intentions had only been to keep the Uzumaki as far away from Sakura as possible. His intentions had only been to protect her.

"Oh," Hinata bowed her head slightly, "T-Then I am sorry. I did not mean to - to cause you any - ,"

"I - It is all right. I am - I will be. . ."

Hinata held his gaze even as he appeared to no longer be looking at her. She placed a timid hand on his shoulder and said softly,

"I am so sorry."

* * *

Sakura knelt before the koto, her tsume donned and her jūnihitoe fanning out around her. That morning the room was empty yet again, but for her and Aniko, filled only by the sound of the strings as Sakura plucked each one. She could carry the tune of a melody she had not played since her childhood without so much as a tremor in her fingers, but inside, she felt herself unraveling. How much longer could she go on in such a way, stumbling through each day, listless and hopeless?

"Very good," Aniko commended her, "Your mother and father will be very pleased to know you are coming along so well."

"Thank you," Sakura bowed her head and folded her hands in her lap.

"We will resume here tomorrow," Aniko smiled and bowed to her before proceeding to the doors of Sakura's sitting room, "You will make him an ideal wife."

The appreciation lodged in Sakura's throat, unable to affirm the words she'd just heard and grateful when Aniko finally departed so that she did not have to. She got to her feet wearily, abandoning the koto and retreating to her private quarters as she began to sob. As she seated herself on her bed, she reached into the drawer beside her and retrieved the jeweled necklace.

She petted the surface of the emeralds encased in the woven gold chain. The handmaidens had come and gone, taking every gift, every note, every declaration in every form, until her room had been nearly gutted. They had taken it all, but one.

She twirled the necklace between her fingers, admiring not the grandeur of such craftsmanship, but rather the memory it stirred within her. A part of her felt guilty that she had hid it, that she had kept it even as Hibiki had departed to return to his estate; there had been no other reason for his continued stay at the palace. Being the head of his own household now, his sole duty would be to find a wife and secure an heir, something that Sakura could no longer be of use to him for. So he had absconded with his lavish gifts before she could even offer a farewell - or an apology.

It was selfish of her, she knew, but she could not bear to be separated from such a precious thing. Though everything around her reminded her of Sasuke, there was little she had of the physical proof that he had once occupied some part of her life. And for no other reason than the man she loved had paid her a simple compliment when she wore it, she had stolen it from its rightful owner. For no other reason than she had worn it the very night they had bound themselves together, it remained in her bedside drawer. For no other reason than the fact that Sasuke had touched her as it hung around her neck, she had lied about its very existence.

When the raw and pustulant wound that had cleaved her heart in two flared with pain and sorrow and anger, she could look on the sparkling gems and intricate gold, remembering a time when he was scarcely a foot from her, rather than the miles apart she now found them.

As the length of his absence stretched on, the world around her persisted without mercy. Not even a night in the forest with her brother's sword could change that. Not even the memory of his hands upon her.

Not even a pretty necklace.

* * *

Hinata took it upon herself as a personal crusade to visit with Sakura regularly. She had found her friend to have a similar temperament once before and it had taken weeks then until Sakura was back to her old self again. While she supposed the other ladies did not harbor the same tendencies, she knew that she and Sakura were alike in this respect, that when they felt things, they felt them deeply. She supposed that was why she had such an obligation to her, and, also, why it came so naturally to her.

"It does not seem as though it will end, does it?" Hinata remarked, satisfied with the apparent fact that the rain seemed to hold most or all of Sakura's attention.

"I am not sorry to see this summer end," she said bitterly.

"No?"

"There are many things that I would like to forget, but I fear not even the passage of time could help me."

Hinata knew her well enough by now to guess that any blunt manner of questioning would only be met with reticence and refusal. So she tried a different tactic.

"I thought you quite enjoyed the days we spent in the garden in the summer. You seemed to be out there so often."

"Yes," Sakura nodded absently, recalling the hours spent in the sweltering heat just for a glimpse of Sasuke. Before she could stop it, an errant tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly, but Hinata had already seen it. Sakura ducked her head, embarrassed.

"Sakura-chan, would you like to - ,"

"Has Naruto written to you recently?" She asked suddenly, avoiding Hinata's gaze, "Have you heard anything from the front?"

"N-No."

"How can you stand it?" Sakura shook her head slightly, stupefied, "How can you bring yourself to face each day when you know he is in such danger?"

Hinata seemed at a loss; she still did not have an answer for her.

"I do not know," her eyes flitted between Sakura and the window, "It is not that I do know worry about him every waking moment - or-or even the moments I am asleep - but I suppose I am simply a-accustomed to it now. There is nothing I can do to - to abate my fears or quell my anxieties. I can not change these circumstances. I can only dream of the day that he returns, when this war is over."

Sakura considered Hinata carefully, pulling her gaze from the dreary weather. She could not imagine shouldering this pain, this regret, this burdenous love for another day, let alone for all the years that Hinata had been forced to do it. And by herself no less.

"Will you tell me more?" Sakura's voice was quiet, subdued as she gazed at her friend with nothing but unrestrained admiration, "More about you and Naruto?"

"Oh," Hinata looked up, surprised, "I-If you wish to," she huffed a small laugh, caught off guard by Sakura's odd request, "It is nothing so exciting as the stories that Ino-chan o-or Karin-chan tell."

Sakura tutted with a shake of her head.

"That is all they are," she said pointedly, clearing her throat, "Stories. When I wish to delight in their musings of fancy, then I shall go to them for that indulgence. For now, I want to know more about you and Naruto - if you would be so kind as to humor me."

"Yes," Hinata blushed profusely and nodded, "What is it you would like to hear?"

"What is it you would like to tell me?"

Hinata quieted and pondered for a moment. She did not think there could be anything so remarkable to Sakura that it was enough to impart it upon her. The things that seemed so profound to Hinata - the first time he smiled at her, the way that he said her name when he was happy or sad or angry, or really any moment that they had spent together. They all seemed to hold some measure of significance, but whether or not it was enough to fascinate Sakura, she did not know.

"There is not much to tell," Hinata stammered as she met Sakura's probing gaze, "I-I can only say that I am most fortunate to have his love - just as I am for your friendship or - or your mother's guidance."

"When did you know he loved you?"

"W-Well, he told me," she said as a slow smile spread across her lips, "But I suppose I knew it before then - He began to - Oh, it is so embarrassing," Hinata shook her head, her cheeks as red as the shells of the lychees from the other day.

"Tell me," Sakura implored her, a studiousness befalling her.

"One day, I c-caught him staring at me," she paused in reverence of the memory and Sakura could see the moment she had lost herself to it, "And the next day he did it again. I would catch him staring at me in such a way, every day. Then, he pulled me aside one night and said the words to me and - Sakura-chan, it was the same look he had given me before. I-I simply knew it, not by his words, but by that look."

Sakura nodded thoughtfully, a sincerity conceived by her own permutation had taken hold of her. What lay beneath Hinata's timidity, her geniality, and her nonchalance, was in fact a far deeper understanding of the world and the people around her. She was not a gossip like many of the courtiers that inhabited the palace, and perhaps she had only been questioning Sakura so fervently because she truly did care for her wellbeing.

Sakura could not give her trust so freely, but she supposed if she were to give it to anyone, it would be to Hinata.

"It is not difficult to see why he would be so besotted with you," the edges of Sakura's lips turned up ever so slightly, not quite a smile, but more than a passive observance. Remarkably, Hinata seemed to take the compliment in stride and responded earnestly.

"As with you, Sakura-chan, f-for whoever the fortunate man might be," Hinata watched her stiffen and proceeded gently, "When the time comes, of course."

Sakura settled back in her chair, passive.

Hinata could not bring herself to press the matter further, for it was plain to see how dreadfully uncomfortable Sakura already was from the conversation. But her reaction had affirmed it. It might not be Hibiki, or Lee, but there was someone at the root of Sakura's distress. Hinata resolved that she might never know - it would be in Sakura's best interests that it remain hidden forever, particularly in light of her impending betrothal - but that did not quash her desire to find out. However, she would never do so at the expense of Sakura's friendship and so she was quick to recover herself, brushing off the blatant reaction as though she had not noticed it.

"I think he might have been as embarrassed as I," Hinata laughed lightly and her blush deepened as she continued, "But he overcame it much more swiftly. In fact, he seemed quite proud and I - hm - I think he delighted in my. . ."

She trailed off, the word lost to her.

"In your unease?" Sakura supplied.

"Yes," Hinata nodded and met her gaze, "I suppose that is how I would describe it. Not unpleasant, though, and he does not do it to be cruel," she added hastily, "It is - well - I - I do not know."

"I understand," Sakura turned her eyes to the window, every unnerved or flustered look she had caused to cross Sasuke's face coming to the front of her mind. How many times had she antagonized him for her own amusement? Teased him just so that she could see the exasperation in his eyes when he looked at her? The perplexity that _she_ had caused him? There was a certain satisfaction to it, a triumph in undoing his so carefully crafted demeanor and a pleasure in the knowledge that she was the only one who could, "I understand well."

* * *

"No, I do not think these will suit you," Mebuki scrutinized the fabrics held up beside Sakura by a trio of handmaidens, "I understand you always lose some of your color in the winter, but, darling, you are pale as a ghost these days and we have not even seen our first snowfall. We must find a more striking silk, something that does not contend for their attentions."

As she spoke, Mebuki searched through the large chest of fabrics and patterns that had been recovered from the depths of her closet. It had been many months since she had commissioned new gowns for either her or Sakura, but even longer since she had acquired new materials for such an undertaking.

In these brief moments of respite, when the war was not constantly knocking at the threshold of her mind, something so seemingly insignificant, such as the convenience of an unimpeded trade route, was there to remind her. With the state of the world, she could not even send for a procurement of new silks for her own daughter and the arrival of such a dignitary would certainly warrant it.

Under many circumstances, Sakura might not protest to the refreshment of her wardrobe, but on that morning, she was being fitted for the jūnihitoe that she would wear for her introduction to Gaara and all she could think was how desperately she wished Sasuke would be there to see her in it.

"This one," Mebuki retrieved a roll of rich navy and a wrapped thread of shimmering silver as she emerged from the abyss of the trunk. The handmaidens rushed to relieve her of the materials and pulled out the silk to drape it across Sakura's middle. Another unwound the spool of silver and laid it over the fabric. Mebuki nodded fervently, "Yes, I think this for the coat and the embroidery will come down the center here to the border."

She moved her hands in the air as she spoke, the handmaidens watching attentively, but Sakura was long gone, locked deep within the memory of the night Sasuke came to save her.

She could still feel the blood dampening her skirt with every second she had knelt upon her sitting room floor. She could feel it touching her skin, tainting her soul. She could hear the man's voice, frantic and angry in her ear. She could hear the chaos caused by the Akatsuki, far off, away from her; the explosion, the shouting. Frozen, a blade to her throat, she finally realized nobody was coming for her.

But then she saw him - Sasuke - she _could_ see him, standing in the doorway, the only thing standing between her life and her death. She could see the panic in his eyes, the sheer terror at the sight of her, infecting every inch of him until there was no room left for anything else. And then he acted so quickly, so fearlessly, without a moment of hesitation.

She could see it now more clearly than she could that night. It was so obvious. How could she have not known then? When Sasuke had taken her in his arms and ushered her out of the room, how could she not have known? When he had cradled her so intimately against him in sheer relief, how could she not have known? When he had swore that he would kill that man again if given the chance, how could she. . .

They had wasted so much time. . . Was it possible he had been unaware of how much they had left together? And if he had known, why had he not told her?

She trusted him. . . She _had_ trusted him.

And she loved him. . . Still.

"Not this one," Sakura pushed the fabric away as though she might wretch from the sight of it.

"Come now," Mebuki chided her.

"Please, Mother," she shook her head, but could say no more on the matter, lest she lose the control to compose herself. She pointed to the trunk, "What about the crimson?"

"Well, I suppose so," Mebuki's shoulders drooped, "We should use gold instead, then."

"Yes," Sakura's breath came in a short, near silent gasp.

"Opals for your hair, don't you think, darling?" Mebuki beamed as Sakura lifted her eyes, unable to look at her reflection any longer.

"Yes, the opals," she agreed quietly, managing a smile for her mother, "May I return to my rooms now? I must practice before my lessons."

"Of course, dear," Mebuki clasped their hands together tightly, grinning proudly from ear to ear, but when she let her daughter go, it took everything within Sakura to carry herself out of the room. She pulled herself taut like the thread that had once connected her to Sasuke and stepped out into the rain. A guard shot forward to shield her from the downpour, but she brushed him away. As he slunk back to his post at the doors, she stood in the barrage of water falling all around her. Tendrils of hair came loose from her bun and slid down her neck. Each layer of her gown became drenched and heavy, rooting her to the spot. And every drop that fell upon her cheeks mingled with the tears that now flowed freely. Faced away from the guards, she stared out into the open and empty gardens, looking at the world through bleary eyes.

"Sakura-chan?"

She turned at the sound of her name and saw Hinata scurrying forward, a thick cloak tied around her.

"Hinata," Sakura's voice broke as they reached for each other. She took her hand urgently and led Sakura along the muddy path at a harried pace towards her quarters.

"You must not be out here in this cold," Hinata chastised her, though with her diffident demeanor, it could have been read as a humble suggestion, "You would not want to be in ill health when Gaara-san arrives."

"Perhaps then I would not have to face him," she whispered vehemently, the words falling off her trembling lips. Hinata frowned deeply and tucked Sakura into her side as they approached the guards who flung the doors open at the sight of their unkempt states. She hid Sakura's face until they were safely alone in the sitting room, then left her to stoke the fire to life. But even after she had laid her coat out to dry and wrung the water from her hair, Sakura had not moved.

"Sakura-chan," Hinata beckoned her over, but she was not looking, her gaze cast to the window, "Come sit with me."

"I must tell you something," her bottom lip quivered as she watched the encroaching clouds through the unrelenting rain. With every breath she took, they seemed to swell and darken as they loomed just outside, "It weighs so heavily upon me that I fear if I do not speak it aloud, I - I. . ."

"Sakura-chan," Hinata said softly, "You do not need to explain anything to me. I can not imagine what distress you are under."

Sakura turned her head slightly, enough to peer at Hinata through her peripheral.

"Yes," she agreed, "I am plagued by many things, but - but, I - I must say it - I must tell somebody - If I do not, then I fear-I fear I will lose him forever - that he will be gone, truly gone from me and I," her eyes snapped to Hinata's then, "There is no one I so trust as I do you. I hope you know that."

"Sakura-chan, what are you saying?" Hinata furrowed her brows as her heart thumped wildly. She was trying to make sense of the jumble of words that had just fallen from her friend's lips, but she could scarcely hang on to any one piece of them.

"I will forever be indebted to you for your companionship," Sakura said earnestly, advancing quite suddenly then, until she knelt beside Hinata, the glow of the fire alighting the very palpable sorrow and fear etched on her face, "But by divulging this, I am afraid I must ask you for something else."

"Anything," Hinata promised without hesitation. Even still, Sakura was silent as she considered what she was about to impart upon her. She would not be able to take the words back. She would not be able to bury her secret again. She would not be able to stop what came after.

"I must ask that you keep this secret for me, that you not utter it to a soul for the consequences would be so dire that I," Sakura shook her head, "I can not sleep, I can not eat, I can not _think_ \- I will lose my very sanity if I do not speak his name again - ,"

"Who?"

A terse breath passed through Sakura's pursed lips, her shoulders tensed, her chest tightening until she felt as though she might snap in two.

"Sasuke."

The air was syphoned from the room with a single, sharp intake from Hinata.

"N-Naruto-kun's brother?"

Sakura nodded, her shoulders sagging as the weight upon them was lifted with that simple gesture.

"I miss him, Hinata," her voice bubbled and her eyes burned, "So much and I - ,"

She shook her head and Hinata surged forward, her arms outstretched. She cradled Sakura against her, a hand on her back and the other at her hair. Sakura choked as she finally broke down. Her façade fell, her walls crumbled, but her heart was free. The toll of such a secret, of such love, of such anguish had for so long become and been a part of her. Now, feeling it secede, she wondered what was left. What of her had Sasuke not touched, tainted, or destroyed? What of her had he not moulded, evolved, or reinforced?

"I am so scared for him," she admitted, her words fractured by defeated sobs, "And I am so angry. . ."

"Sakura-chan," Hinata said softly, "I do not understand. H-He - ,"

"I love him," she choked out and Hinata stiffened. Beside her, Sakura was unraveling into a trembling, blubbering mess, the words coming so fast that Hinata could barely keep up with them, "I love him. I can not marry Gaara-san. I can not marry a man that is not Sasuke. I will be damned for it, but it could not be any worse than the torment that plagues me now," her voice was torn as she whispered once more, "I love him."

Hinata sat tacitly as she held Sakura to her breast, aghast at her words. She wanted to ask how, when, what - _why_? Why him? Of all the men at her beck and call, why him? Why a lowly guard? Why a man that she knew she could never have a future with? Why when she appeared so ostensibly pleasant and joyous, and he so evidently miserable and subdued? For that, Hinata could not begin to make sense of it all; but for her sorrow, the pain of separation and the fear for his life - that was familiar.

They remained beside the fire for hours in rapt silence, the only sporadic sound a shuddering breath or strangled weep from Sakura's lips. It was only when she shivered in her still dampened jūnihitoe that she pushed herself away. With an alarming measure of shame, but shattered composure, she bowed her head to avoid Hinata's probing gaze.

"I am sorry," her voice wavered, "I should not have said such things, I - Forgive me, Hinata. Please - leave me be."

Hinata parted her lips to refute, but caught herself before she could. Steadily, she rose and placed a comforting hand upon Sakura's shoulder.

"I understand," she spoke quiet, but sure, "I may not - I-I am _certain_ I do not know all that you have endured, or that you -," Hinata swallowed thickly, "I understand, Sakura-chan. I understand well."

Despite her reticence, Hinata departed swiftly and quietly, shocked, trembling fingers constraining the gasp that sat at the border of her lips.

* * *

Sakura stared vacantly at the wet puddle of cloth at her feet. She had to redress - Aniko would be expecting her soon - but she just stood there, shivering in the dark and cold of her private room. She should not have said a word to Hinata. She should not have exposed something so private. If Sasuke returned -

When. _When_ he returned -

If he returned, Sakura had just put him in very real danger - and all because she had not been strong enough to carry the burden of their love alone.

But the problem was: it had never been a burden to her, not ever before. Not when he had kissed her beneath the willow tree, not when he had worshipped her at night, and certainly not when he had finally said those words to her. Yet, she had never been faced with any of the consequences for it.

Until now.

Missing him was a consequence. The awful, restless pining that consumed her days was a consequence.

Trust was a consequence. Being at his discretion and mercy as she was, was a consequence.

And of course love - love was the worst consequence of all, because in the absence of his love, she had only succeeded in loving him harder, in loving him deeper, in loving him more.

But he had left her. Had she been a fool to think they might not end in tragedy? That they might be able to find a way through? Together?

Despite all her love, he felt almost as if he were a stranger to her now. An enigma.

A dream. One that had been so easy to live in when she knew he was only across the gardens, when she knew he was there. But now. . .

He could be alone.

He could be starved and cold.

He could be bloodied and beaten.

He could be dead. . .

Or he could simply be gone.

* * *

Another month had passed and Hinata had not returned to her. The imminence of Gaara's advent compounded in final dress fittings, accommodation preparations, and the ravenous gossip of anticipating courtiers. Despite all that, his arrival had brought little fanfare - having left his sister and brother to tend to the Sand in his stead. He had traveled only with a handful of advisors, maids, and guards in his company, all of which had been escorted swiftly to their temporary chambers. While the residents of the palace had craned for a chance to glimpse the ruler, Sakura had sequestered herself in her rooms. Even if she had wished to see him, though, it would be improper for them to meet under such informal circumstances; which is to say that they would be introduced to each other for the first time at the announcement of their betrothal.

She did not much care to make any sort of impression on him, least of all a good one, but the hours of ceaseless lessons on etiquette and dance had all led to this moment - the moment she would meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with. It was an odd thing, to her, to know such a fact when she had not even met him yet. But it was even stranger to have met Sasuke, to have known him, and only afterwards discover that she desired to spend the rest of her life with him. Aspirational as it was, a future together had seemed so attainable.

But now that he was gone. . .

"Oh, darling," Mebuki clasped her hands on her cheeks as she stared, awestruck, at her daughter. Sakura's gaze remained fixed on the reflection within the mirror. A coat of deep red, brocaded with fine gold, adorned her, its collar buttoned high upon her neck and its sleeves trailing to her feet. Behind her, the train extended like a shadow, the certitude of which she could not rid herself, "It is perfect."

A handmaiden approached Sakura from behind, draping strings of opals atop the crown of her head. They seemed to decorate each strand of her coiled hair, shimmering with every shift of her neck in the stiff collar.

"Mother, may I speak to you alone?"

"Of course, dear," Mebuki sent the room away with a wave of her hand. Almost as soon as the doors shut, Sakura turned on her mother.

"I can not go through with this," she exclaimed suddenly, the admission so rushed and so forceful that she nearly shouted it, though Mebuki stood only a few paces from her, "I must not marry him!"

"Sakura," her mother said sternly, setting her shoulders back with that familiar air of practiced regality, "I understand your worries, but - ,"

"No!" She barked, "Please, mother, listen to me!"

"Sakura," Mebuki said through gritted teeth, "Temper yourself."

"You do not understand!" She protested staunchly, but as soon as the words had left her mouth, she was silenced by the appalled look on Mebuki's face. Sakura cowered and bowed her head.

"I do not know what has possessed you to speak to me in such a manner, but it is unbefitting of your stature," though she sounded admonishing, she was not harsh; she could not be when it came to her daughter, "I do not know what has so abruptly changed your mind, but - ,"

"My mind has not changed," Sakura's voice quivered, "It has been the same these many months. It has been the same for nearly a year!"

"So there is another," Mebuki balked at her daughter, her subsequent fears now being realized. She knew she could not have stopped this, not with the world such that it was, but she knew she bore some responsibility. Her conversation with Sakura on the day of their luncheon had revealed as much, but for her better judgement she had not pressed the matter. If Sakura had insisted he was nobody - a man of nonexistence - then who was Mebuki to say otherwise? Well, perhaps it was more out of a selfish hope that she did not raise the subject again, for what mother would want to tell her child that she would be denied a love of her choosing? What mother would want to see the look on her child's face as she was denied her very nature to love?

Mebuki wanted to reach for her, to hold her as she once did when Sakura was a little girl, to comfort and soothe her as though this heartache were merely a bruise sustained from a romp in the gardens. But she restrained herself, feeling, and knowing in part, that she could offer none of that comfort. Resolutely, she requested quietly, "Tell me of this nobody."

"I can not," Sakura shook her head as her eyes began to water, "But I implore you, do not make me marry Gaara-san."

Mebuki slouched under the impossibility of what she was being asked. She exhaled deeply, exasperated.

"This is not something I can control," her voice was thickened by her own frustration and despair over this unexpected turn of events. Tonight was meant to be a joyous thing, a celebration for their family and the palace. Of course she had her own qualms. Of course she would rather Sakura have a say in her own marriage. Of course she wished she had the power to change these things. But she did not and she could not and that was the reality they lived in, "You know this. Your father and I seek only to do what is best for you, but we must also do what is best for our legacy. For _your_ legacy."

Sakura could not find the words, nor the bravery, to speak against her. But as desperately as she desired to, she also knew the inefficacy of it all.

Finally, Mebuki stepped forward, placing an unsteady hand against Sakura's cheek.

"One day, we will be gone from this world and we must ensure that you and the empire are secure. Whoever he is - Surely he knows - It can not be," a bittersweet smile spread over her mother's lips, "An accomplished leader does not bend to anyone's will."

A tear slipped free, colliding with Mebuki's thumb, as Sakura nodded.

"Not even their own," she finished.

"Your lineage is a heavy burden," Mebuki brushed away the tear gently, "But one that you carry well."

"I do not feel that I do," Sakura shook her head adamantly, "I do not think I will make a good ruler."

"You will," her mother said ardently, "You will, darling. All that you feel in this moment is only a lesson for the future. One day you will tell your children of how you rose up in the face of your hardships, and conquered them with grace and fortitude."

"But this - ,"

"There is nothing to be done, other than to push forward."

The last of her dissents died in futility. There was still a chance. . .

There still _had been_ a chance, as long as he was there.

But now he was gone and, with him, all of her hopes, too.

* * *

Sakura shook as she stood behind the large doors, her legs ready to give out beneath her. It felt as though a hammer were beating against her heart, its constant drumming ringing in her ears like a discordant anthem to her arrival. It grew to such a volume that as the entryway swung open to her, she could hear nothing else. Her line of sight shrunk to the size of a pin, isolating the man at the back of the room who was seated on a chair beside her father. She did not know what she had expected, but it had not been him.

He was a stern looking man with a foreign marking emblazoned on his forehead. His starkly red hair stuck close to his cheeks and barely brushed the hem of his rather plain collar.

Sakura did not realize she had not moved from her position until she saw Gaara rise to his feet; he was a hulking figure looming towards her. Even though the clack of his boots and the sweep of his coat indicated every step he took to close the distance between them, she could not find it in herself to approach him. She could not find it in herself to walk forward, because that was not the direction that her future lay in - at least, not the one that she so desperately wanted. The one that, until just two months ago, she had convinced herself she could have.

Gaara extended his hand out to her.

The whole room turned their adept gazes upon them as Sakura hesitated.

Would Sasuke come back from war, ravaged by battle, only to find out Sakura had moved on? He had always said it was inevitable that she would marry. Perhaps he had always been right, and she had always been naive. His absence now left a well within her. A pit. Sorrow and anger that knew neither boundaries or depths. It was not tangible, it could not be heard, but it could perhaps be seen in the ways she moved. In the ways she spoke. In the company she kept - that of the comfort of isolation, of solitude, of mourning these past months had been her only solace. What might have been, what had, and what _would be_ were no longer certainties to her. Whatever fleeting and glorious moment of control she had held just a short time ago was gone now. Perhaps if she had been quicker to act. Perhaps if she had not been afraid. Perhaps if she had not let his own fears and trepidations get the better of her. Perhaps things would be different.

But it had been his choice - her father had said that quite clearly. Maybe he was mistaken, though. Maybe Sasuke had not meant to break her heart. Maybe this was all a dream and she would wake soon, nestled against her love in the safety of her bedroom.

Yet, there, before her very eyes, she found herself staring at the man who had crossed - well, not an ocean, but certainly many lands, to meet her.

He was a poised and handsome man to be sure, and though she had yet to see any of the humor on which her father had remarked, she supposed she would have a lifetime to discover such things and more about him.

As well as a lifetime to learn how to love him.

But as the great hall of courtiers observed them in quiet admiration - this sacred meeting of two that would become one - she felt the words lodging in her throat. She felt the profound rebuke born from her own stubbornness. She felt the final protestation of her battered soul.

Suddenly, a horrified gasp broke through the silence. Hinata darted through the crowd, tearing past Sakura, who turned to see what had caused such a stir. Naruto, barely bandaged and wretchedly battered, limped with the assistance of Kakashi's shoulder. But as soon as he saw Hinata, he found the strength to rush towards her, taking her in his arms as she cried with relief.

"What is this?" Kizashi descended the dais with heavy footsteps, "What has happened?"

"An ambush," Kakashi's voice rang through the somber silence of the hall. Beside him, Naruto looked up, but would not loosen his hold on the woman in his arms. Sakura watched them bitterly, reverentially, as a chill so cold it numbed settled into her veins.

"They slaughtered us," Naruto spat with more venom than Sakura would have thought him capable, "My brother - ,"

Kakashi raised a hand to silence him. Sakura forced her eyes to the ground, pinching the heel of her hands to stall her tears.

He could be alive.

He could be alone.

He could be hurt.

"What of my army?" Kizashi's fists shook as he clenched them tightly.

"We had to evacuate with what we could to come here, to warn you," Kakashi said urgently. Kizashi and Gaara shared a look, the leader of the Sand's face tightening into an expression of worry and unease, "We were greatly outnumbered and taken by surprise. We fear they may strike here next. And in more devastating ranks."

"My brother," Naruto spoke up again, unable to abate himself. He addressed Kizashi directly, making no movement to hide the tears that bordered his eyes, "He stayed behind to save us - to give us a chance to escape - He - I fear he may be. . ."

Sakura could not hear his final word. She could not hear Hinata's devastated cry that followed. She could not hear the hushed whispers of the courtiers around her. In fact, she could not hear a thing.

 _Nothing_.

She clutched a hand over her chest, but could not even feel it beating.


End file.
